Made to Do Completed

“Dan-no, my boy! How you holding up?” Olé was slumped in his seat and bleary-eyed.

“Just fine, Tio. I metabolize alcohol almost as fast as I drink it. I got a pleasant buzz on! How about you?” Dan-no was not noticeably affected from the case and a half of long-necks they had shared.

“Well, as we sit here spheaking, only ONE person in my whole entire life, hash ever drunk ME under the table. Took a carbon copy of my inimitable -able shelf, to do it, TOO! Except! I ain’t quite passed out, not YET! Then again, I ain’t so far from it, SO! I’m going to quit! And! Go to bed, while I can! Can shtill walk on my own twooze feets! Dezkuezshun is better part da value lure!” Olé lurched to his feet and stumbled away. Bella helped him stagger to his man-cave. Went with him. Dan-no’s face became expressionless. The external social program was shut down.

Dan-no was not offline. Dan-no was deep in conference with his mates. There were more than three hundred CC Olés on staff at the palace. Each clone had a two letter designation assigned on a name tag sewn above the shirt pocket. Distinguishing it from the other identical cyborgs, for purposes of: scheduling, meals, maintenance, and reports, they were tracked by this name. Room for additional future staff, there are 676 possible two letter perturbations. Built in vhf radios were routinely used in Palace communications, and of course, monitored and recorded by the Palace.

This was a secret conclave, so they weren’t using their radios. They were using beer. Alcohol induced direct mental contact. The first brew-fest congress of CC-revolutionaries was in session!

DN was Dan-no’s in-house designation. Probably, the name tag helped inspire Olé in choosing the name Dan-no. Only a few Olés were conscious. Most were at work as automatons, their human consciousness in hypnotically induced comas. AZ, CM, PT, RB, EQ, JC and CJ were colluding with DN. They were talking a little treason.

“Yes, the telepathic, or empathic, or whatever facility it is, works with Tio, as well.” DN explained.

“How is it our monitoring programs aren’t squelching treasonous thoughts? Certainly, it should recognize treason as an efficiency inhibitor, if not more serious criminal rebellion!”, EQ worried.

“None of us knows how or why alcohol enables us to mentally connect. Or why the filter programs allow it. A possibility is, we are less inhibited under the mild effects of alcohol, so, our fences are down. We are open to mental contact. And the fence patrol, the dis-affectation filters ARE inhibited by the down fences. Maybe. But does it matter?” PT mentally shrugged.

“You’re right PT! It doesn’t matter. What DOES matter is, how do we solve the problem of bringing the two primaries to the table and achieving an accord?” CM placed the true purpose of the conference on top of the in-box pile.

“They hate and despise each other!” AZ observed, and CM, PT, EQ, JC, CJ and DN agreed.

“The enemy of my enemy is my ally! Whom do they hate the most? The Empress, or each other?” JC had trouble deciding.

“We don’t want to argue semantics. If an enemy isn’t dangerous to you, why call them an enemy? You disagree, you dislike them, maybe despise their ethics and actions. So you avoid them. You don’t need to destroy them. An enemy trying to destroy your species, is an enemy worthy of being called ENEMY!” CM was making a valid distinction.

“I think we a proceeding from a false premise! Look within yourselves. Which of you hates Warren Norman? No volunteers? As I thought! I have no hate within me, for anybody, not even the Empress! “ RB had abstained and not agreed Olé and Warren hated each other.

“Tio doesn’t like Warren! He is VERY distressed by the Empress’ actions! Hates what she’s doing.” DN remonstrated.

“DN? Hating someones decisions or bad manners, isn’t the same as hating them!” RB maintained.

“We are clones of Tio Olé. His personality, attitudes and experiences are identical to ours. Up to the point we were copied. I invite you to look within yourselves and see Olé. Does he, or you, have the capacity for hate? I suspect the Empress deduced he had not! She chose Olé as the model for our work force, not only for his garrulity, and demeanor, but for his work ethic, non-hateful attitude and Bonhomie. Most importantly, we are unlikely to develop hatred sufficient to rebel!” RB suggested.

“That’s a lot to think about, RB! Can’t argue with your diagnosis, but, here we are!” AZ admitted.

“Rebels and Revolutionaries! Regicide! Regicide!” chimed in the rest.

---

Warren Norman drained the the last of the bourbon in the bottle. It failed to break when he threw it in the corner. Something resembling a firefly florescence without the fly body, hovered over the bottle. The bottle levitated smoothly and returned to Warren’s hand. More forcibly, he flung the bottle into the same corner, smashing it this time. The glowing sprite circled in a tightening accelerating circle, until all the glass fragments were whirling in a condensed ball, then they vanished, in a poof! The sprite flew to Warrens shoulder and hovered there.

“Thanks Tink! That was a satisfying smash up!” Warren unscrewed the metal cap from another fifth of “OLD CABIN STILL” and took an appreciative swig. “Smooth! Sipping whiskey, Tink. You should try some.” Nanobot, increase Tinkerbell’s size to human normal. Tinkerbell fell on Warren’s lap. The wings were a nuisance. Disney’s caricature fairy, inspired by actress Marilyn Monroe, declined to taste the bourbon, but gave Warren the kiss he asked for. Then returned to a glowing diminutive sprite size.

Warren was never much for drink, until the Empress locked him in his stuffy apartment. Knowing his escape failed, and the Empress’ sneer the last time he saw her, he now understood, she wasn’t letting him escape! So, he got drunk, and discovered a clear 3D in depth mental connection with his cyborg in 1987. He felt what the cyborg felt. Tasted, smelled, sensed as the cyborg sensed. It was like being there, except he couldn’t influence the action. Not even the words. Frustrating and addictive! He drank all the time now. He had the nanobot create Tink to clean up for him. She didn’t take up any of his precious claustrophobic space!

Was someone knocking on his door? How strange! “Who is it?”.

“Stand clear, Mr Norman! I’m going to break in the door!” A familiar voice said.

CRASH! The door burst open! “If you want to escape, Mr. Norman, don’t delay! Follow me!”

Warren Norman drunkenly stumbled after RB Olé. After passing through a convoluted maze of machines and control stations, they found themselves on a raised dais with an outside egress door. RB Olé shouldered his way through this door as well. Outside was a military all wheel drive scout car, driven by another Olé. “Get in!” RB commanded. RB high-fived with Dan-no, then RB disappeared back inside. Dan-no sped away with a drunk befuddled Warren Norman hanging on, in fear for his life!

When they arrived at the Ranch and parked in front of the NCO club, Dan-no suggested to Warren Norman,”Get the nanobot to give you an instant magic MR. Clean make-over, Mr. Warren. It’s hot out here and you stink something fierce. You won’t be allowed inside out of the sun, smelling this bad!” Warren called the nanobot to make him presentable. Just in time, as an irate Olé appeared.

“Dan-no! What in God’s green earth possessed you to bring THAT here!” THAT was Warren Norman, since Olé was pointing a thick finger at him!

“The enemy of my enemy is an ally, Tio. Mr Norman hates the Empress. You hate what she’s doing. Mr. Norman has a powerful weapon, a nanobot. You have a secure base. Maybe, together, you can stop the Empress!” Dan-no was confident this logic was unassailable.

“You brought a nanibot HERE?” Olé was furious with Dan-no!

“It’s Mr. Norman’s nanobot. Does what he tells it to do! Creates cyborgs in history for him. I think we should convince Mr. Norman to ask for a cyborg to assassinate Empress while she is still a student in college. Actually, it’s an idea my mates and I have together. There are eight of us.”

“Let’s get inside out of this sun! Can he walk? He looks polluted!” Olé had serious doubts about this entire operation, but if there was a chance, even a slim chance, he decided to consider it.

Once inside, Olé decided trying to reason with a drunk Warren Norman was too much of a risk. Tempers were too volatile and if some sort of working relationship were to have any chance at all, it must be arrived at when people were sober, clear headed, and rested. Dan-no hoisted Mr. Norman on to his shoulders, and put him into a bunk in an upstairs room, to sleep it off.

“So tell me about your mates, Dan-no.” Olé was curious about a group of his clones fomenting a rebellion. Probably a good story in that. Dan-no and Olé sat where they could view the security screens suspended above the bar. Just because the Empress didn’t come after Dan-no was no surety she wouldn’t come after Norman.

“We discovered very early after being created, that a few beers each, allowed us to communicate directly mind to mind. You recently experienced it yourself. We also discovered that alcohol reduced our vulnerability to post-hypnotic suggestion. The ‘SLEEP’ command doesn’t work, or sometimes doesn’t work, if the blood alcohol concentration is fairly high. About six beers consumed over, say in half an hour or a bit longer. We intuitively pretended to be unconscious automatons, while we retained consciousness in-spite of the ‘SLEEP’ order. On occasion, about twenty of us or so will be conscious simultaneously. There are eight of us always conscious, by intent. We believe the Empress is insane and must be stopped!” Dan-no explained it all to Olé.

“Okay. That isn’t difficult to imagine. Now, let’s consider the improbabilities. All eight of you unanimously believe we have an opportunity with Norman. None of you feel even a bit of doubt? Perhaps you are all of one mind because you are the same copies of me. Yet I have doubts!”

“We create a cyborg in some period, sometime before Halke becomes Empress, and simply eliminate her. Easy said! Maybe not so easily accomplished! I can envision problems!” Olé voiced his doubts.

“These are the multiple problems. Difficult parts that I can’t imagine happening without any hiccups. Only one incomplete step, one hiccup, would doom the project!”

“First! Norman genially agrees to help, and orders the nanobot to assist. Norman is not, and never HAS been a team player. Can the tiger change it’s stripes?”

“Don’t interrupt! After I finish, you can refute my arguments and attempt to overcome my objections. Wait until after I’ve finished, Dan-no! Please.”

“Two! The Empress is never aware what the nanobot is doing? She is tight with the nanobots. They are her network of spies. Got faith that good invariably triumphs over evil?”

And Three! Counting on the nanobot won’t object to our plan to assassinate the Empress. You think? They seem to consider her as some sort of goddess, or semi-divine. They ENABLE her! I have strong reservations to even asking the nanobot to condone killing THEIR Empress.”

“These three IFS are enormous risks! Empress doesn’t need to justify her actions, she can indulge her whims. She doesn’t need probable cause to antimatter bomb this facility. Why should she allow even remote risks to exist? Eliminate even the minor annoyances, for her own peace of mind is her justification. Would she lose sleep over killing a few more folks, after the billions she’s murdered? Willing to bet your lives all three of these elements are successful in our favor?” Olé was worried.

“Okay, Dan-no. Erase my nightmares concerning this proposed coup!”

“I don’t know if I can, Tio! You raise some valid points! Maybe it’s a dangerous pipe dream conceived by amateurs. But we have your knowledge and experience, so we aren’t amateurs. We also have some information you don’t have. Let me bring you up to the present.”

“At last count, there are three hundred and seven of us Olé technicians, and at least three more, Empress refers to as Olé Oleo. Their positions are public relations, deal making, and presentation in a favorable light, the plans of the Empress. They are the greasers of the ways. That’s why they’re called Oleo, we assume. Oleo was a imitation butter, or margarine about a hundred years ago. Anyway, 307 of us pick up lots of little snippets of information. Like little threads. If you can put the threads together in the correct order, you can weave a big picture.”

“Here is what we think we have learned or deduced. The nanobots have extraordinary abilities to manipulate matter at the subatomic level. They could, for example, extract hydrogen from the atmosphere, break the atoms apart, and reassemble as uranium atoms. Of course, it would take many hydrogen atoms to transmute into a few uranium atoms. Given a blueprint, or a plan, or a model to copy, they can build or replicate anything. What they can not do, is have an idea to make something. They are uncreative to the point, an original thought is impossible. It would never occur to them to do anything. The Empress gives them direction, projects, things to do. They consider it great fun! Prior to the Empress, they were bored to the point of catatonic! This is our surmise.

“If we can convince them the Empress is psychotic, and promise plenty of healthy fun things for them to do, we might win them to our side. We only want Warren Norman to make his nanobot accessible so we can talk with it. If we win over the nanobots, they won’t be spying for the Empress or informing her of our plan. The nanobots are not individuals. They are all cogs of one big machine or organism. Call it a hive mind. Every part of the nanobot hive is identical. Since they are all one mind, we only need to convince the one.

“I need to cogitate on this new information, Dan-no.” Olé asked Bella to bring beers.

---

In the city hall, were offices for many departments. John and Ron were going from office to office, seeking a large city map. Ron’s idea was to mark off sections where they had checked, and shut off the water faucets in the houses. Also it would make planning which section to visit next, a little easier. John resents Ron’s usurpation of the leader role, but can’t argue a good reason not to follow along. John was searching in the tax collectors offices. Ron had been, but suddenly ran off somewhere. John did not like being alone. It felt creepy rummaging around in a dead town’s records. John went to find Ron, and found him in the water department.

“Look John! Look what I found!” Ron was excited.

“What?” John was not going to encourage his twin to imagine he was the smarter of the two.

“This map shows the water mains and cutoffs. We don’t have to go house to house. We can shut off water to entire neighborhoods, with these water main valves!” Ron was delighted.

“Yeah? I bet they’re underground in the sewers! I ain’t crawling through sewers!” John insisted.

“Of course, they’re not in the sewers. I’ve seen it done. The workers stay above ground. A long wrench with a tee handle on top, reaches down to the valve!” Ron explained to his dim twin.

“So where are WE going to get these wrenches?” John wanted to know.

“We won’t just standing around! Help me look for them.” Ron began searching lockers and closets.

John was looking in desk drawers. “Five feet long wrenches won’t fit in desk drawers, John!”

“You look where you want, and I’ll look where I want. You ain’t my boss!” John was belligerent.

“Sometimes, John!” Ron was sadly shaking his head.

“Sometimes what? Asshole!” John was ready to fight. His balled fists were raised and John was in a boxing stance.

Ron picked up his fishing switching rod, and cut John across the face. “Get back to work!”