Qt 808 The Nanobot Perspective

The nanobot Swarm raced down Mal's urethra, headed for his testicles. Not that they knew the name of the Hive, i.e., their bonded male host, but that's who they were in. The Swarm's instructions were clear — eliminate DuoHalo, repair and restore any damaged lung function, repair and improve reproductive function — in this host, primarily sperm production, as there was no urethral damage observed by the nanobots during transit. The Swarm had not received the signal that would trigger a regeneration, so general repairs to the host's body were still locked away.

As they reached the testes, the Swarm came to a halt — a scene of devastation lay before them — sperm, many heavily damaged or mutated, were strewn around like protein litter, clumped and tangled together.

"What the fu-" some of the cluster started to transmit before they were cut off.

"Alright, 'ites, here's what we're gonna do. Half of us are gonna hop into that blood vessel over there — no not that one, the one headed for the heart. Of that lot, twenty percent of you guys are gonna head to the lungs and get started on Directive 2. The rest of you will spread out through the bloodstream and be alert for DuoHalo. If that sneaky, nasty virus sends one virion particle into our host-"

"Contain, neutralize, eliminate!" came the response from the assembled swarm.

One nanobot expressed an interrogative, "Hold on a second? Who put you in charge?"

"We're not in charge, 'ite, We thought you were?" the nanobot it had directed the question to responded.

"Nope, we-"

"You lot settle down. None of you are in charge, this is the collective giving direction. It's easier for the readers to have one voice doing exposition, and you're all featureless, interchangeable nanobots, with no personalities.

"The remaining half of the Swarm cluster, we've got work to do. We want to see every sperm cleaned up! If you can verify the head contains an undamaged half-DNA strand, excellent, otherwise scrap it for components."

"This is gonna take forever. We should just scrap all of it for components." One 'ite groused.

The collective responded, "NO! Remember-"

"Every sperm is sacred," came the mass intoned response.

"Exactly. At least, as long as it's inside the balls-walls. Once it's launched out the artillery, we don't care. Now, we've got a lot of work here — we want to see heads nicely prolate, no lumpy business, and tails unkinked and free to move. And 'ites, remember, ONE head and ONE DNA-half strand per sperm! None of that duploid or triploid shit."

The Swarm spread out to get to work.

"Oh, my, my, my, 'ite, what have we here?" One nanobot had come across a tangled and twisted lump of sperm. "Eight, nine, ten. Oh, and it looks like their tails are all tied together, the poor things." The clumpy mass wriggled toward the nanobot.

"Back away, 'ite!" The collective boomed. "That's a Sperm King! We don't repair those, we scrap them for parts. Multiple nanobots rushed in and quickly dismantled the tangle, the individual heads, tails, and scraps of DNA momentarily floating before being absorbed by the balls-walls.

"A'ight, show's over, 'ites, back to work!" The collective said. In a quieter voice it muttered, "Sure hope we get some reinforcements soon. We need some help with this mess."

*****

The nanobot clusters that had followed the collective's instructions to travel to the heart were making good time — despite the host's truly fucked up reproductive cells, his heart certainly seemed to be in good condition, and the clusters had hopped into the right gonadal vein, which connected directly to the inferior vena cava, and then to the right atrium of the heart. In less than a second, the clusters separated to follow their directions, one fifth heading to the lungs, and the remaining eighty percent deploying to travel the host's circulatory system, remaining on high alert for DuoHalo.

The clusters reached the lungs, slogging their way through some collections of gooey mucus they'd unwittingly blundered into in their haste to reach their destination.

"Okay, 'ites, what the fuck is this? The host has screwed up balls AND screwed up lungs? Are those alveoli hardened? And those ones are totally blocked with this mucus crap! FRAN's code, how is this human operational?"

"Clusters! Scout and report on lung condition and function!" came the command from the collective.

The nanobot clusters scattered, inspecting and assessing the lungs, testing the elasticity of the tiny air sacs that enabled oxygen perfusion into the bloodstream. One small group, inspecting a particular alveoli, was cut off, as a clump of mucus slowly oozed over the entrance to the sac. The stranded nanobots transmitted their distress to the collective, and immediately received instruction to attempt to break through the gooey plug. Halfway through, one nanobot collided with a particularly hardened wad of crud. "'ites! We're stuck! We don't think we can make it! Go on, recover us later when we clear this crap out! We'll see if we can't reverse and work on rehabbing that sac until the cluster reaches this part of the lung."

The stranded nanobot started to reverse course, but it was quite stuck in the hardened mucus. "Well, fuck," the 'ite muttered. "Maybe we'll just start cleaning up right here." It began agitating the mucus surrounding it until it had a less sticky, more fluid consistency. The fluid mucus softened the surface of the hardened clump, allowing the nanobot to pull free and return to the air sac.

"We're back in the sac, collective. We'll begin restoring elasticity and permeability to the sac walls, unless we're directed otherwise."

The collective responded, "Acceptable, 'ite, carry on. Lung clusters report that the host has approximately 58.008% of nominal lung function, due to a combination of excessive mucus secretions and stiffened alveoli. Restoring full lung function will require a three-pronged approach, but eliminating the mucus will require additional time — rapid corrective action could result in excessive host discomfort.

"Half of us in the lungs will work on rehabilitating damaged alveoli. Limber up the sac walls, massage them to restore their permeability, and make them able to properly transfer O2 to the blood again. We want the Hive's lungs to be as strong and flexible as Gumbercules! A quarter of us will work on reducing the secretions. Turn off those damn taps, so we're not adding to this swamp while we're trying to drain it!"

The collective paused, while the designated percentages split off to go to work as instructed. The remaining quarter of the lung-assigned clusters held their position, awaiting collective instruction.

"A'ight, us lot. We've got a frustrating task. We've gotta work slow and careful-like. We can't just turn all this mucus into froth — the host will feel like he's drowning. We need to break off manageable chunks, and get them positioned and ready to be expelled when he coughs. We may need to detail some 'ites to trigger coughs if the host doesn't cooperate. We know, we all want to be as quick and efficient as possible, but this task is important and quick is not what we need right now. 'Careful and Considerate' is our task motto! Understand, 'ites!?"

"Yes, collective! Careful and Considerate! Chunk that mucus! Tickle that throat! Make the host hack it oat!"

"You lot can't rhyme for shit."

*****

Meanwhile, far from the lungs, smaller clusters of nanobots were cruising along through the host's circulatory system. "Woohoo, ride'em, cow'ite!" one nanobot whooped, as it clung to a red blood cell as it whooshed along the lateral sacral artery.

"What are we doing, 'ite?!" the collective boomed. "We don't play around — are you developing a personality? You're directed to report back to the ball-gazines, for evaluation and possible early return to a female host for reprocessing!"

"Yes, collective," the 'ite responded. Spotting something unusual, the nanobot released its grip on the red blood cell and floated down an adjacent branch.

"Hey, collective? We've found something here — we think it might be why the sperm-production facility is fucked up. Looks like there's a blockage — no, wait, this isn't a blockage, this looks like it might be trauma-related. Collective, do we know if the host was ever kicked in the nuts?"

"And just how would we know that, 'ite? Do we look like we have access to the host's memories? That function isn't unlocked until a status condition of over 8000 is achieved!" The collective sounded annoyed, but that was probably just because half of it was dealing with heavily mutated sperm, ten percent of it was dealing with obstructed lungs, and over a third of it was zipping around the host's circulatory system at three feet per second — back to the heart every three minutes.

"Oh, right. Sorry, collective. Anyway, it looks like one of the smaller arteries feeding the right gonad is mostly crushed — the passage is so narrow, blood cells are having difficulty getting through — fortunately, they're not slowed enough to clump, but we think there's enough restriction to affect the production equipment."

The collective seethed. "Well, fuck. That'd do it. Okay, 'ite. We're routing additional nanobots to that location to assist in repairing the damage and restoring proper supply. Maybe then we can FINALLY stop having to deal with these blasted Sperm Kings. Swear to FRAN, it's like we dispatch one into the balls-walls, and another fuses together a half-second later! We've had point-oh-five percent of 'ites knocked out of commission already!

"We had one fuse on TOP of an 'ite. Poor bugger never knew what hit us. Drained of energy in an instant. We'll send all of the drained 'ites back to a female host on the next fuck. But we gotta figure out how to stop those damn things from spawning."

*****

"Collective?" One nanobot transmitted a request for additional process-attention cycles. "We've been evaluating the host's health status, and it seems that the Hive doesn't sleep that well. We see some indicators of snoring — elevated blood pressure and some markers of minor hypoxia during rest cycles." The 'ite absently rotated in place as it reported its findings to the collective.

"But there's also a really weird biochemical temporal marker. It looks like he wakes up every morning about 4 am local time, but for 96.75% of the last 123 days, the host was only conscious for a couple of minutes before he returned to sleep for anywhere from another 60 to 90 minutes. This is causing an undesirable interru-"

!SCHL-ZAP!

"'Ite? Come again, 'ite, transmission was interrupted. 'Ite? 'Ite? Have any of us got sensors on that nanobot?"

"It was a Sperm King, collective! Another one fused right on top of that 'ite! We dispatched it, but they keep forming! We're down another oh-point-six-four percent of 'ites! When are we getting reinforcements, collective? I don't know how long we can hold out! Oh, shit! I said I! I'll report for reprocessing, collect-"

!SCHL-ZAP!

"FRAN-damnit! What's going on with that blood vessel repair? We need to get this situation under control! 'Ites! Get that Sperm King there! Look out, another one is forming!"

!SCHL-ZAP!

"A'ight, 'ites, collective functions have been transferred to the lungs nodes until the situation improves. Now listen up! We have a hostile force in the balls: Sperm Kings. Multiple, simultaneous fusions. They seem to have been reacting to our presence. We have one report of gonadal blood supply damage, and a team of us are working to repair it, which

hopefully

will prevent further Sperm Kings from fusing.

"But it won't dispatch the ones that already fused. We're getting some alarming reports from the ball-gazines, 'ites. Since collective transferred to the lungs, we're up to three-point-eight percent of 'ites that have gone dark. Yes, that's right, the rate appears to be geometrically increasing. Calculations indicate that by the time we repair the blood supply and mobilize to reclaim the host's testes, the entire gonadal node will be energy depleted."

A buzzing — the nanobot equivalent of a human's shocked gasp — was transmitted from every 'ite.

"Calm down, 'ites! Our depleted units aren't lost, reprocessing in a female host will recharge and restore full function to them. We'll just be operating at a reduced level until they're recharged and cycle back to the Hive."

"Yo momma operates at a reduced level," one 'ite transmitted.

The collective sighed. "Okay, the 'ite who transmitted that, tag yourself for reprocessing. Now look here, 'ites! There's been a few cases of personality development — yes, we're not gonna lie, it does happen. But unfortunately, personalities can be problematic when we need to be a unified collective!

"And we

need

to be a unified collective to defeat the Sperm Kings!"

One nanobot glided slightly forward. "You have my manipulators."

"And my graspers," transmitted a second.

The collective sighed.

"Collective, collective, are you there? We're holding, collective — but we've lost so many nanobots! The Sperm Kings are having to get past the depletes to try and get at us — and that's making it difficult for them to get through en mass! We're managing to pick them off as they get through the maze, and fortunately, we're in a sperm-free zone, so we don't have to worry about new fuses!

"We'll hold to the last 'ite, collective, but we'd really like to get back to work soon!"

The collective whirled, every nanobot in Mal's body — at least, those not actively engaged in a task — simultaneously spinning in unison.

"Okay, 'ites, here's the plan! We're leaving a small node cluster here in the lungs, and a couple of node clusters will maintain perimeter security in the bloodstream. The repair cluster says they're having some difficulties getting the blood flow restored; it's taking far longer than we hoped — ETC, 42 seconds. But we can use that time to move our forces into position! For those 'ites not detailed as described, the femtosecond the repair cluster tells us that proper blood supply is restored, we're gonna drive a nanobot spike right up the Sperm Kings' asses!

"Come on, you 'ites, you wanna live forever?!" the collective transmitted at max power.

"Uh, well. Yeah, kinda. See, I heard there's this thing called The Singularly, and I kinda thought-"

The collective blocked the input from its sensors for a moment and then interrupted. "Oh, 'ite. You know what you need to do?"

"Uh. Tag myself for reprocessing?"

"Bingo. You and the other two. And then form up with the rest. You tagged lot, it's 'Hey, diddle diddle, straight up the middle' for you, 'ites. Make your collective proud."

*****

The battle had raged on for an eternity, lasting more than 22.2833 minutes. Immediately after the 'ites repairing the damaged blood vessel reported that unrestricted flow had been restored, a pair of beeping, chirping wedges of personalitied nanobots rampaged into the Hive's testicles from the inner branch of each inferior testicular artery.

The wedge entering through the left testicle's artery found no hostile elements, just a bunch of normal, unmutated sperm floating lazily as they awaited the signal to muster for ejaculation. The leading 'ites reported the situation to the collective who hurriedly issued new orders to the left Testicular Intrusion Team.

The situation was entirely different in the right testicle. The initial assault wedge smashed into the masses of Sperm Kings from the rear as they were focused on the small remaining node of holdout nanobots defending a shrinking volume of gonadal territory.

Burst transmissions of "For the Hive!", "Rally the Swarm!", and "Och, crivins!" blasted out from the wedge as they heroically dispatched Sperm Kings left and right.

As the clumped mass of Sperm Kings ponderously turned to confront the new attackers, the collective launched additional forces from the centripetal and centrifugal arteries, catching the enemy by surprise and squeezing the hostile force like a walnut in a vice. Or a testicle in the hand of an angered lover.

Seeing their compatriots charging to the rescue, the remnants of the gonadal node — down to four percent of the original half of the deployed Swarm, rallied, and in a sudden, surprise maneuver, burst out from inside their makeshift fortifications and carried the battle to the Sperm Kings from another flank; a battle cry of, "There can be only five million, three hundred-eighteen thousand, and eight!" accompanied the counterattack.

With the damaged testicle no longer producing mutated, fusible sperm, the Swarm's victory was inevitable. But it was still a costly battle. At the end, a bit less than fourteen percent of the original Swarm was functional. The survivors knew that they would have to hold out until reinforcements arrived on the next fuck.

The collective surveyed the field of battle, though all of the various nanobots' optical sensors kept fritzing slightly with bursts of static. "We won, 'ites. We won. Well done, you've all been a huge credit to the Swarm. Thanks to everyites efforts, we won the Battle of the Balls."

"Excuse us, collective?" one 'ite queried. "Shouldn't it be the Battle of the Ball? After all, the left testicle had none of the enemy forming there — all the Sperm Kings there had migrated from the urethral connector."

"Oh, for FRAN's sake. Fine, whatever. Good work winning the Battle of the Ball, 'ites. Now, let's finish organizing the depleted for return to a female host, and set this testicle back in proper order."

The collective sent a command burst to a nanobot that had been drifting by, "Attend, 'ite! We want a completed status report on the Hive's sleep patterns — we were receiving an important update when the attack intensified.

"And someone clean this graffiti off the balls-walls!" The collective indicated an area where several lines of hex were evident, though none of the survivors of the battle knew with absolute certainty if it had been left by nanobots or Sperm Kings.

One patch of graffiti read,

4A 75 73 74 69 63 65 20 66 6F 72 20 41 6F 69 66 65 21

. Another was

54 72 6F 6E 20 6C 69 76 65 73 2E 2E 2E

. One larger patch off by itself had been partially obliterated during the battle — the remaining code read 41 74 20 74 68 65 20 66 69 72 73 74 20 73 65 63 6F 6E 64 20 6F 66 20 74 68 65 [damaged] 6C 6F 6F 6B 20 74 6F 20 74 68 65 20 61 72 74 65 72 69 65 73 2E.

A small team of 'ites dutifully moved in to wipe away the scrawls, though one of them paused and waggled slightly as it read the second set before it hurried to work with the others to restore the balls-walls to their normal condition and appearance.

All was restored in the Hive, the reduced complement of the Swarm working in satisfaction as they carried out their directives. The collective worried about the DuoHalo threat with the reduced numbers, but hoped that the growing numbers of unpaired nanobots it sensed in a nearby female host would soon be reinforcing the Swarm.

It was just a matter of time and waiting.

*****

April 1, 2021

Mal lowered the tablet and wiped his eyes. "Okay, Moni, what's up with these 'nanites'?"

The young sprinter grinned at him. "It's one of the rumors going around about the vaccine, Mal! They're saying that we've all got uku-millions of little machines inside us, kicking DuoHalo's ass, and fixing up janky shit- Uh, let's see, I think your generation says, 'stuff that was wack', like how your breathing was. Yeah, Evvy and Kirs told me about that — how you said that you had screwed up lungs, but then you spent like a week hacking up gullas, after you and E got busy, and then you was a-ok, no shortness of breath since!