Rayguns Over Texas Read online

  Again, we thank you for your interest and continued support.

  Sincerely,

  The Fullerdyne Public Relations Management Team

  Lincoln, Nebraska, Bubble Security, the Hot Spot, and Artifacts

  http://www.fullerdyne.com/lincoln_nebraska_bubble security and artifacts.html

  Fullerdyne wishes to assure all citizens that we are doing everything in our power to resolve the situation in Lincoln, Nebraska, as quickly, efficiently, and as safely as possible. We do not take the concerns of our customers and shareholders lightly, and wish to address each of them at our upcoming town hall webcast. However, because we wish complete transparency with regard to the Nebraska incident, we wish to address two news stories that have spread across all media outlets, both professional and unofficial.

  Using infrared imaging and quantum entanglement optics, satellites operated by the Southeast Asia Consortium and in cooperation with the National Security Agency observed a “hot spot” near the northwestern surface of the Nebraska bubble two weeks after the bubble’s successful growth. This “hot spot” completed a full navigation of the bubble after a period of several days before finally dissipating. The “hot spot” never in fact breached the surface.

  Although multiple media outlets have speculated that the “hot spot” is evidence of the bubble’s lack of integrity, repeated satellite observation and sensory reports from the bubble’s receptors confirm that the bubble is more than adequate to ensure the safety of citizens of Nebraska.

  Furthermore, although the satellites’ quantum entanglement lenses, with the assistance of simulation software, were able to create a simulation of the interior of the bubble, at present neither Fullerdyne nor its team of engineers or collaborative scientific minds have been able to determine the nature of the “hot spot” or what might have happened to it. In such times, of course speculation runs rampant (with including less reputable truthcast sites spreading fear-mongering stories about “emergent intelligences” evolving in a primal nanotechnological soup), but we urge all journalists to provide to their audiences a reasonable and accurate assessment of these events, rather than conjecture for the sake of increased traffic.

  Additionally, recent truthcasts have reported artifacts that have been located outside of the bubble. Although spectators and curiosity seekers stated finding several of these twisted, gnarled objects within twenty miles of the bubble’s exterior, they are not a result of a bubble breach, but are fragments of the genetic sculpture commissioned by Rowena Li in 2026 for the DeCordova Sculpture Park. At present, Fullerdyne is uncertain how these fragments (described by art critics as a blend of Fractal Modernism, Mobius corals, and Genetic Noveau) wound up outside the bubble, but nonetheless is investigating the matter. Reports by respected forensic investigators indicate that the sculpture is in fact deceased, and poses no danger.

  (Note: Individuals in possession of the Li pieces possess the property of the people of Lincoln, Nebraska, without their consent. Failure to make prompt return of any portion of the sculpture will result in criminal prosecution.)

  From:

  To: [email protected]

  Date: October 31, 2048

  Subject: Response to Events Surrounding Fullerdyne’s Town Hall Webcast

  We at Fullerdyne would like to thank those customers, shareholders and other citizens who participated in our town hall webcast, and would again like to ensure those participants that their concerns will not go ignored.

  The primary raised is the series of events that led to the incident in Lincoln, Nebraska. Unfortunately, for legal reasons Fullerdyne cannot comment on probable causes, except to say that faulty computational processes by computers monitoring nanotechnology experiments may have been a factor. Fullerdyne will provide full disclosure of the events surrounding the incident in Lincoln, Nebraska, once all details are known and it becomes politically and legally advantageous to do so.

  Citizens and shareholders also asked questions about the displaced persons who have established shantytowns outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. In these new hamlets, former Lincoln residents are adapting to the lives of the new North American gypsy, powering accreted townships with solar energy, distilling water and transforming raw sewage into edible protein. Decrepit, rusted and otherwise unusable tractors and combines found in long-abandoned farms we refitted with worn struts and girders hammered into crude blades and attached to computers programmed with artificial life to till land outside the shanties for modest gardens. Documentary footage of these shanties may be found at Life Among the Savages: Chronicles of Nanotech Displacement. Fullerydne will return these displaced persons to return to the town of Lincoln, Nebraska, as soon as it is safe and legally viable to do so. (Note: Although these temporary townships comprise residents of Lincoln, as well as onlookers, truthcasters, and environmental nomads, they are not being recognized as part of the governing body of Lincoln, Nebraska, and do not hold any interim political power.)

  Citizens and shareholders have asked both about the health risks as a result of runaway replicators and the effects of runaway replicators on architectural integrity and infrastructure. Although risks of runaway nanotechnology are considerable, we do not believe they will be harmful once Fullerdyne has begun cleanup procedures. Moreover, we believe that we will need a complete study of the city’s infrastructure once nanites have been brought under control, a process which may take several months—considerably longer than initially anticipated. We will provide shareholders and citizens with full details when it becomes legally feasible.

  On behalf of all of us at Fullerdyne, we would like to thank all who provided spirited discussion during our town hall webcast. Please check our website again for information on our next webcast, at a date to be determined.

  From:

  To: [email protected]

  Date: November 1, 2048

  Subject: Probes to Explore Interior of Quarantine Bubble

  We at Fullerdyne are pleased to announce that we are sending a series robot probe to investigate the landscape and effects Lincoln, Nebraska has undergone in light of the runaway nanites.

  Based in part on the Mars Exploration Rovers developed in 2003 (though armed with more manipulators and coated with durable, flexible and stretchable synthetic skin akin to what one finds in robotic surrogates found in Japan), these semi-autonomous probes will explore the interior of the quarantine bubble to determine the effects of the damage inflicted upon the city, including the environmental tolls taken by the nanites.

  Programmers are already at work developing limited artificial life to allow them to navigate the topography within with minimal human interference.

  Probes should begin their exploration on November 5, 2048.

  (Note: Fullerdyne undertakes exploration of the interior of the quarantine bubble in the interest of research, and its actions in no way should be taken as acceptance of responsibility by Fullerdyne for the incident in Lincoln, Nebraska.)

  Knowledge Gained of Lincoln, Nebraska

  by Probes Before Contact Lost

  http://www.fullerdyne.com/lincoln_nebraska_update_06.html

  On November 5, 2048, Fullerdyne launched a series of probes into the interior of the quarantine bubble surrounding Lincoln, Nebraska to determine the current state of the city, the damage it has undergone, and when residents may return to their homes and businesses.

  Initial data appeared promising. Assemblers and replicators swarmed through the bubble’s interior, looking, in the words of on truthcaster, “like an entire city overrun by a storm of smart dust.” These swarms have caused significant damage on architecture and infrastructure, making Lincoln, Nebraska, resemble a cityscape “designed by Max Ernst or Oscar Dominguez.” These were the only images we received before Fullerdyne lost contact with the probes.

  At this point, Fullerdyne does not have enough i
nformation to determine what caused loss of contact with the probes, although the most likely possibility is that swarms of nanites worked their way into the probes, causing a loss of integrity. However, we would like to ensure citizens and shareholders that we are diligently attempting to reestablish contact.

  (At present, Fullerdyne cannot comment on random bursts of wifi traffic it has received through subsequent loss of communication with its probes.)

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  From:

  To: [email protected]

  Date: November 30, 2048

  Subject: Update on Events in Lincoln, Nebraska

  http://bit.ly/iTTiAM

  Fullerdyne and Its New Vision of the Future

  http://www.fullerdyne.com/fullerdynes new vision.html

  We at Fullerdyne would like to take a moment to thank all shareholders and human citizens for its continued support during this new and exciting time in its history. Advances in nanotechnology, genetic engineering, and artificial intelligence research and applications promise to ehance living systems and emergent structures throughout the world.

  Fullerdyne looks forward to helping shape a better world, especially in its vision of a post-Incident future.

  Share its vision.

  Defenders of Beeman County

  Aaron Allston

  A government agent comes to a rural, Texas community to check on

  some unusual energy readings in this story straight out of the Twilight Zone.

  He paused, framed by the doorway into the Beeman County Sheriff’s Department building, and wondered what would be the best way to destroy the place.

  Above average height, his deep, even tan hinting at outdoor hobbies and an off-duty disdain for clothes; he wore a gray suit that cost about as much as a good, used car. Every wavy, black hair on his head was in place. The expensive sunglasses in his hand, chilled during the drive here, had fogged over in the moment it had taken him to walk across the overheated parking lot behind him. He tucked them into his breast pocket.

  The station’s receptionist, a long-faced blond woman in her forties, in a blue pantsuit and faux pearls, looked up from her gum chewing and flashed him a smile. “You want to close the door, hon? You’re letting the cold air out. What can I help you with?”

  He entered, letting the door swing shut behind him, and moved up to her desk. “I’m Ayers. I want to speak to Sheriff Cothron.” He set his ID on the desktop in front of her.

  She glanced at it, clearly seeing the Washington, DC address and the name of a government department few people had heard of and, just as clearly, recognized what it meant. She amped up the intensity of her smile another notch. “I expect the sheriff will see you right away, hon.”

  #

  The sheriff’s office was exactly what Ayers had imagined disorganized and cluttered. A mismatched collection of tables and filing cabinets along the walls overflowed with stacks of manila folders, loose faxes, and photographs. A dartboard, with a photo of the current Texas governor pinned to the center, hung from a nail beside the exterior window. The laptop computer to the side of the desk sat open, its screen saver cycling between pictures of Carribean island resorts, French villas, and cruise ships.

  Sheriff Henry A. Cothron sat leaning back in a leather office chair, his booted feet up on the desk. In his early forties, he had a gut that spoke of beer and biceps that spoke of workouts. His tan uniform was not yet sweated through. He looked as though he might have been just seconds from reaching for his cowboy hat, pulling it low over his eyes, and commencing a nap.

  He gave Ayers a friendly look. “What can I do you for?”

  Ayers leaned over to hand the sheriff his ID. “You can start by taking your feet off your damned desk and showing some respect.”

  The sheriff didn’t change expression or position. He eyed the ID card with disinterest. “Nope. If I went to all that effort, I might just have to continue by planting one of these boots so far up your ass that your breath would smell of leather.” He handed the card back.

  Ayers blinked at him. “Are you sure you looked at that? Can you even read?”

  The sheriff lost his smile. “I did. And before you decide to swing your dick some more, and I decide to mistake it for a rattlesnake and shoot its head off, why don’t you tell me what you want so I can get you out of my beloved county in the most expeditious fashion possible?”

  Ayers stood silent for a moment, mulling over Sheriff Cothron’s fate. He slipped his ID into his pocket beside his sunglasses. “Do you know where Sandstone Hollow is?”

  “That’s spelled Hollow but pronounced Holler, I’m sad to report, and sure I do. Out past Amelia Stone’s place on Bull Dog Run. What about it?”

  “Late last night, the Department detected some anomalous energy pulses in this area and fixed their source at Sandstone Hollow. I need someone experienced in the local geography to accompany me out there.”

  “Meaning you need someone to show you which cacti not to sit on when you decide to take a roadside crap?” The sheriff sighed. “Yeah, sure.”

  He did finally take his feet from the desktop. He stood, his head topping Ayers’ by several inches, and spent moments donning his hat and sunglasses, adjusting his gun belt.

  “Sheriff, understand that for the moment this is classified top secret.”

  “I got it.” The sheriff looked out his open office door. “You got it, Doreen?”

  “Sure thing, hon.”

  #

  At Ayers’ insistence, they took two cars, the sheriff’s department cruiser and Ayers’ sleek, black limousine. They drove out past the city limits, the transition from houses and mowed lawns to dry scrub land a sudden one, then headed north on a back road.

  Ayers glared ahead through the haze of summer dust the sheriff’s wheels kicked up from the gravel road. Cothron drove too fast, making sharp turns, catching air on bumps and rises; all the maneuvers more demanding than was good for the limousine. Ayers wasn’t in the mood to skid off the road into rocks and tarantula nests and sheep crap.

  He very much looked forward to killing the sheriff.

  They left the gravel road to turn west onto Bull Dog Run, a rutted dirt track. A few hundred yards past the turnoff, with no buildings nor Sandstone Hollow in sight, the sheriff’s car pulled off to the side and stopped.

  Ayers pulled up behind it. Cothron had already exited his vehicle and was heading off, on foot, across dry terrain toward a scattering of pumpjack oil wells--equipment that looked like a mad welder had attempted to create impressionistic sculptures of giant brown grasshoppers.

  Ayers hit the button to lower his passenger-side window. Hot air washed in across him. “What’s the holdup, sheriff?”

  “Gotta pee. Bladder the size of a marble. Be right back.”

  Ayers rolled the window up and glowered after the sheriff.

  Cothron walked perhaps fifty yards off the road, stood with his back to the cars, unzipped, and then stood with his hands on his hips.

  Ayers looked around, impatient. There were no people to be seen in any direction, no movement at all other than the slow bobbing of some of the pumpjacks.

  A few moments later, Cothron zipped up again. But he didn’t turn around to return. He bent over to examine something on the ground. He turned, saw Ayers looking, and waved the Washington man over.

  Shaking his head, Ayers left the comfort of his car and walked to the pee site. “Get your ass back in your car, Cothron. Whatever’s going on here isn’t
relevant to my assignment.”

  “You’re going to crap yourself when you realize how relevant it is.” Cothron jabbed a finger toward the ground before him. “Take a look at that.”

  Ayers moved up beside him and looked. All he saw was a patch of once-dusty ground, now spattered with liquid, rapidly drying out to become dusty again. “I’m missing it.”

  “That’s okay, I don’t miss anything.”

  Then Ayers heard it, the sound of metal clearing leather, and felt a handgun barrel pressed hard into the side of his head.