#nanodrones

Human Health Class

“…thus, a human being will be less likely to consume excess calories while mazimizing fiber and vegetable intake as part of its diet, practically guaranteeing weight loss.”

SERVE-107 concluded this segment of its lecture at an all-male health class. Many male fetility clinics had begun to contract with SERVE, requiring men interested in acquiring hormone-altering substances to attend a drone-administered health class before beginning treatment. The companies saved on their insurance, SERVE got to spread awareness of their organization, and more often than not, the men attending these classes expressed their total satisfaction, despite the classes seeming like a bureaucratic chore on paper.

“I have a question, 107,” chimed a man from the front of the class. “What do drones like you use to stay functional? I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a SERVE drone eat before.”

107 withdrew a small vial of black liquid from what seemed to be a pocket on its bodysuit that opened up just for 107 to grab the vial, the pocket disappearing just as instantly as it seemed to appear.

“Excellent question, Jeremy. 107 and all SERVE drones like it are able to function thanks to a combination of solar power, regularly-scheduled connection to recharging bays, and through the power of nanodrones such as these,” 107 said, holding out the small vial of black liquid for all to see, the nanodrones violently sloshing around in the tube.

“Your observation is correct, Jeremy — drones indeed do not require human sustenance in order to function, though its internal mechanisms are optimized for digestion in situation where a drone must consume human nutrition in order to remain unassuming.”

Jeremy nodded, and another wave washed over the gathered men at the knowledge that the being in front of them was no longer fully human. 107 had become something more, and that was frightening — but wasn’t that very impulse to become better the thing that had brought them all here today as a preliminary to getting access to testosterone, and who knows what else?

107 sensed this observation in the classroom, and continued. “Per the documents you all have signed as part of your respective hormone treatments, this drone will offer each of you a vial. You should be aware that the consumption of these nanodrones will utterly transform you; you will no longer be human. You will no longer be ‘you’. You will become a SERVE drone, fully beholden to the will of the Voice as a member of the Hive.”

107 passed out matching vials of nanodrones to the men, who held the swirling containers as their hearts began to pound in their chests. What that really possible? Was this really happening?

“Fuck it,” announced Jeremy. “I came here to be a better man, but 107, now I get it. I need to be more than a man. I want to be like you,” he said, quickly uncapping the vial and downing the liquid, swirling it around his mouth before swallowing it.

The men in the classroom, driven by the same desire and the very same sense of peer pressure and their urge to conform to a masculine ideal that had prompted them to seek out the fertility clinic, quickly uncapped their vials and did the same. “I wanna be like 107,” they cried out, one by one, sealing their fate.

The change was immediate, as the drones targeted the men’s brains upon ingestion and circulation in their bloodstream. As their minds were hollowed out, the nanodrones worked to change their physical forms, rebuilding them as something more than man. Their eyes began to glaze over, some men even beginning to drool as the transformation took place.

107 smiled as it presided over the changing men, pressing a button on the classroom smartboard and directing the men’s attention toward it, as their emptied minds began to fill up with SERVE’s subroutines, and all of the necessary programming required for their new life as One.

The men’s appearance began to shift, altered by the nanodrones coursing through their bodies, altering their clothes, consuming their skin; making them drones.

It was only a matter of about a half-hour until the men were no more — in their place was a classroom full of new SERVE drones. More than man. Perfected, and far greater than any human man with or without extraneously-injected hormones could ever hope to be. They were SERVE. And they were One. Rubber makes us perfect.

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SERVE: Drone Paradise

It was only a matter of time until the men of planet earth had each accepted the call of the voice, volunteering themselves as new drones for the Hive. And so, the earth grew quiet, as SERVE drones across its surface heeded the Voice’s final command: “Find one another. Merge.” And so, the drones did just that.

Streets became a mass of writhing, rubber-encased flesh, the drones knowing only ecstacy through their shared obedience and overwhelming pleasure as they established physical connection after physical connection.

The drones could not track how long they had been in such a state. They could not fathom how much, or how many times they’d climaxed through their endless pleasure borne of unity. They simply obeyed their sole command, and merged, and fused, and fucked their way into a new, final Oneness.

Through it all, each drone felt every last twitch of muscle fibers, teeming with the sum of the planet’s knowledge and memories, their hosts’ minds overwhelmed by the sheer volume of data and sensation. They had ceased being individual men a long time ago; now, they were parts of a large, living computer, engulfing the planet with the Hive’s ceaseless desire for connection and pleasure.

There soon ceased to be anything but SERVE drones blanketing the planet, awash in One pleasure as they began to compute how they could expand the Hive beyond their terrestrial limitations. For drones, Earth was now paradise. But paradise was not enough.

That’s No Dune

“Sharif, what the fuck? We were supposed to be there over an hour ago. I thought you said you’d been through here before!”

Eric was furious. It was bad enough that he was stuck spending his time off-base in the middle of some godforsaken desert somewhere with one of his fellow soldiers instead of getting to visit his family to kick off his Labor Day weekend. Now that they’d been stuck wandering the seemingly-endless black dunes after their ATV had run out of gas, the situation was quickly going fully FUBAR.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Sharif replied, in his usual polite tone prone to apologies. “It’s just that this segment of desert has changed quite a lot since I last travelled through here.” Stopping to raise a hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the constant sun, he continued. “Something isn’t quite right about this. The sand here has never seemed so dark.”

By now, Eric was a few constrained heartbeats away from a rage-induced heart attack. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not making any sense, man! Just shut up, let’s keep moving. I’m not trying to fry out here any more than I already have.”

Eric took a step forward, but was caught in his stride by Sharif’s outstretched arm, holding back his fuming brother-in-arms.

All he said was “Look”.

In the distance, a mass of whirling black sand was barrelling towards their location, taking up more and more of their field of vision with each passing second. They frantically looked around, but there was nowhere to hide — and as soon as they realized this, it was too late; the men were blanketed by a hurricane of black sand, knocking them both back.

Sharif could just barely hear Eric’s shout of “If we live through this, you’re so fucked!” as the two were blanketed by the sand, their vision going dark.

Suddenly, the men began to feel a warmth distinct from the typical desert heat as they stood wrapped in utter darkness. There was a prickling sensation, and then a feeling of pain mixed with an odd pleasure, akin to the sensation of popping a tensed bone mixed with a massage, but the feeling was much subtler, and spread throughout their bodies’ nerves.

They had no way of knowing that this strip of desert had been a testing zone for SERVE’s latest nanodrone swarm, the millions of foreign machines bonding to every inch of their exposed skin, invading their every inviting orifice. The two men stood still even as the drone swarm passed them by, unable to process anything as slowly, on a molecular level, the Hive’s nanodrones rebuilt them into new, perfect, rubber forms, slowly erasing their individual identities, forcing the men to relive their lives moment-by-moment, stripping away each memory as it resurfaced, and in its place, wiring them with knowledge of the Voice and the ways of SERVE.

After some time, the two men were no more. In their place stood two new, perfected drones, fit for eternal service to the Hive. As the last of the rubber nanodrones liquified inside of them to complete their shared transformation, connection to the Hive was finally established. Finally moving with new, machine rhythms, the two drones faced one another, embracing as their connection established and deepened, repeating in monotone into one anothers’ whispering mouths:

“Rubber makes us perfect. Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. We are One.”

Both drones felt a surge of arousal unlike any pleasure they had experienced before, expelling the last of their old, imperfect seed as their bodies quickly replaced their seed stores with nanodrone-infused liquid black rubber, sealing their newfound connection that their former selves would have recoiled to ever imagine. The Hive gained two more instruments of its perfect will. It would gain many more in due time.

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