Lair by Carl Stubblefield (recommended reading TXT) 📕

Tempest made a big deal about it when I applied for jobs, saying it would make me invaluable, but I have no idea how it works.”

“It shouldn’t. Especially since it exerts an external effect. We have not encountered how an ability such as this can function without nanobots influencing it. Humans have not reached this level of development without assistance. None of the embedded nanobots are contributing to creating this effect, and we can detect that it was present before the nanobot transition event.”

“Yeah, Nick, I know as little about it as you do.” Gus said, surveying the area around him and starting to walk down the beach. Passing some driftwood, he asked, “Out of all the things in my memory, why was a fictional construct chosen? And why that particular one?”

“This construct was selected based on an evaluation of your memories, life experience, current level and familiarity with your new situation. My strengths as a patient instructor should suit your reckless nature well. Nanobot interface constructs evolve after a certain amount of growth from their host, and so the overlay of personality will change to better suit the host’s current temperament and abilities. In terms you are familiar with, you might understand this as when the Doctor from Doctor Who goes through a regeneration. He is the same individual but his personality, appearance and demeanor change over time, often drastically.”

“I actually hate it when they do that,” Gus said brusquely. “Well, time to make the donuts.” Gus focused on his muscles, seeing if he could somehow activate the nanobots. The first thing that came to his mind was the archaic game Space Ace, where the scrawny Dexter character would morph into a suave, self-assured beefcake of a hero. Maybe it was just a mental trick, but Gus felt suffused with energy. The suit didn’t feel like a burden at all anymore and he began trotting down the sandy beach.

Chapter Five

I Will Survive

Day 1 12:24 PM

14:00:12 remaining

Gus was a pretty handy guy, thanks to Grandpa, but he was working with practically nothing here. He was a city mouse, and never really gravitated to the outdoor sportsman mindset. When he was younger, his father had insisted that he be in Boy Scouts. Gus agreed, mostly to be out of the house for a while. He loved puzzles, though, and figured if he could frame his view of surviving on the island that way, he could work out how to solve any problem. A countdown clock had appeared in the upper left of his display and made the game uncomfortably real.

He looked for food first, since hunger was his most insistent need. He could see trees a quarter-mile down the beach, but didn’t know if they were coconut trees or palm trees or something else entirely. They looked like typical island trees, tall segmented trunks with the large wide-bladed bunches of fronds sprouting out of the top, waving softly in the breeze.

He saw a crab scuttling across the beach and made to chase it, but he could only move so fast in the suit and it made it to the water for a quick escape when the outgoing tide slurped it back to safety.

Approaching the trees, he indeed saw that they had coconuts, but they were pretty far up there. He gripped the trunk and shimmied up the bent tree like he had seen people do online. With his nanobot-enhanced arm strength, the process was much easier than expected. He did notice that the effort required to climb the tree started lowering his stamina bar.

When he finally got near the top, he had drained it to a bit lower than halfway. When he got closer to the top, the natural curve in the tree crossed near another tree and he was able to brace himself in between the two and easily hold himself in place close to some coconuts and wide fronds. His stamina drain stabilized and began to climb again slowly. Where the fronds erupted out of the trunk there were large bulbs with multiple footholds. Propping himself between the trees and making sure he was stable, he started peeling branches.

This would be a lot easier with a blade of some sort, Gus thought as he struggled with his task. He then found he had better success by yanking sharply downward to partially detach the frond then twisting them until the fibers shredded. He was grateful for the suit’s gloves that gave a good grip as well as protecting him during his work. Letting the fronds and all the coconuts he could reach fall, Gus decided he had gathered enough here. He got himself situated, then bear-hugged one and slid the rest of the way down.

Leaving his loot there until he found a suitable camp, he trudged on. Finding a long staff-like piece of driftwood, Gus grabbed it. Maybe he could use this to smash any speedy crabs. Walking down the beach, he thought he must have looked like some type of odd space Moses. “When Gus was on strange is-lands… let my Gu-huss gooo…” he sang in his best imitation of Cameron Frye.

He spotted a small area nearby where the ridgeline dipped lower from a small rockslide and was easier to climb without mountaineering skills. He had to duck-walk up the rough path, trying to see in front of him past the edges of the suit. Flat shale-like stones slid underfoot, making the climb difficult. At the top of the rise, he saw an outcropping of stone nearby, offering a tiny bit of shelter in case it rained. “Perfect, that should do,” he thought. He cleared some stones away, rolling other larger ones to form a makeshift fire pit as he had done in Boy Scouts back in the day. Upon the rise, the constant wind from the ocean seemed less intense, and a large tree nearby kept back the harsh afternoon sun, providing ample shade. The suit kept him perfectly climate controlled, but that wouldn’t last. He