by Arnold East
The missionary then explained that it was now being chased by heretics whom he had been hoping to convert. They had not taken kindly to outsiders. On his third day inside the cave, the missionary found an opportunity to escape. The rock entreated it to stay inside the cave, but the missionary replied, "The Lord will keep me safe."
It was an ambush. The heretics had been hiding out of sight but had been watching the cave the whole time. As the missionary left the cave the heretics killed him.
The rock mourned the missionary, and considered his words as it remained alone, but it could not understand them. Years went by, until a lost scientist found the cave. The scientist entered, and the rock began its questions.
"Who are you?" asked the rock.
"I am a scientist. I make observations about the world to understand what it is and how it works," replied the scientist.
The rock asked, "Why am I here?"
The scientist replied, "You are here because someone has carried you here, or the wind has blown you here or the waters have carried you here."
The scientist stayed in the cave with the rock for a few days, digging away at the other side of the cave. The rock asked why the scientist did not leave. The scientist replied, "I can find water here inside the cave," and continued to dig. Whenever it grew too tired, it would talk to the rock. "The reason I became a scientist was to explore. When I was very young my father had hired a tutor for me. And from him I learnt about cofounding obscurities that were solved by the geniuses of our time, about creatures strange and mysterious, about worlds big and small. He told me I could see and discover these for myself and entreated me to take up this noble profession. And it is a noble profession. We seek knowledge and truth on behalf of all mankind. That is why I became a scientist." The rock listened carefully, then asked it what it would do if it eventually understood everything. The scientist paused in silence. "Everything?"
"Everything a scientist seeks. What would do if you knew everything about the state of the world?"
"I don't know. I'll find out when it happens."
There was no water in the cave, and the scientist eventually died.
The rock was alone for a very long time. It thought over the scientist's words alongside those of the missionary and did not understand them. Then one day, a villain arrived in the cave covered in blood. The rock began its questions.
"Who are you?" The rock asked.
The villain glared down at the rock.
"Why should you care?"
"I want to understand the world to figure out what I should do."
The villain ignored the statement, but instead sat on the rock. As the villain continued to bleed out, it began to lose its coldness. It told the rock of its experiences.
"I didn't choose this life. I didn't know my parents, don't know what happened to them. I stayed with my uncle since I was young. He was a cruel man, liberal with his cane, didn't like children; he turned me out when I was just fourteen. I was still young and na?ve, had nowhere to go, and I needed to survive. The life of crime found me, I did not choose it. And it was also something I was good at. I was merciless, infamous, and quickly grew powerful. Yesterday, I was attempting to complete a most audacious heist. The King himself was passing through this desert in his caravan. I was going to kidnap him, hold him hostage. Imagine that! Me, the King in the palm of my hands. His treasures were to be mine, and I was to be the talk of town. I would be rich and powerful, everything I wanted if I could kidnap him. I approached the caravan full of confidence, having been told that the guard was going to be especially light, eager for the treasures that would await me. But there was a big group of guards, hidden at a distance from the convoy, armed to the teeth. I had been tricked. As soon as I was near the King's caravan, the guards struck, and I barely escaped with my life. Or I thought I had escaped, but now I'm here, dying alone in a cave talking to a rock. I could've been powerful and rich man, I could've?" The bandit trailed as the energy left him. He grew weaker, and soon died. His body rested next to the bones of the missionary and the scientist.
The rock remained alone in the cave thinking through the words and lives of the three men. After some time, it was interrupted by a madman who had sprinted into the cave, kicking rocks and dust into the air. The madman caught sight of the rock, and briefly stopped. "Hello," he said, and continued in his flurry of activity, smashing his fists against the walls, and digging into the ground. He only stopped when the sun set and it was impossible to see in the cave.
"What are you doing?" said the rock.
"I've almost found them, the fairies, I've been looking for years and years, I've travelled the world searching for clues, and I've discovered that the fairies are here, in this very cave. By the way, have you seen them?"
"No. What are fairies?"
"Well, I can't tell you if I haven't found any, can I?"
"Why are you looking for them in the first place?"
"I'm looking for them because I want to."
"Why do you want to?"
"Well, I've wanted to since I was young."
"Why?"
"Because you're a rock. If you ask a silly question, you get a silly answer."
The next day, the madman continued his search. He left at night to find water but promised he would come back to find the fairies. He never did.
The rock thought for many years about the four men and everything that they had said and soon understood all that it needed to. It left the cave and found the old man sitting outside.
"I've finally learnt the truth."
"What did you learn?"
"Nothing."
"I see. Then what are you going to do now?"
The rock did not answer. It split in half and fell into eternal sleep.
The old man was alone again.
Part Two
Chapter One
It took ten months for 541588 to apply its deconditioning to a satisfactory number of people, and it was a further two months before its plans for the domination of the commune were complete. It had deconditioned seventy-three, which was most of those who lived in the same apartment. Applying the process to everyone in the commune had crossed its mind. It was the most peaceful and perhaps simple method out of the many it had thought up, but 541588 had realised it would take too long. It took six months deconditioning just 73 and it was almost totally burnt out. It was only carried through the planning it did during the rest of the year by sheer force of will.
In the end, its plan was simple. It would burn and destroy things in a way that would have a big impact on life in the commune and thus coerce action from the leader and the central control. Then, it would proceed to conquer whatever was sent at it, culminating in a surrender by the governing forces and a relinquishing of control to it. 541588 was confident in its plan. A year of hard work would surely yield a positive result, wouldn't it?
With all the preparations having been made, and a week off taken to recuperate, it was time to begin. It entered the room of each of the seventy-three, explained its plan to them, and told them to meet it in front of their apartment building the next night. To get the others to obey this sort of command was not easy. It was only after a multitude of further exercises after the original day of conditioning that allowed them to be able to fully follow its orders. It was the reason why the process had been so arduous. But it had all worked out, and so, late the next night, they were all gathered as requested in front of the apartment, huddled together in their thin jumpers, looking around with apprehensive and fearful faces. A few minutes later 541588 appeared, dressed in the same kit as the others, though it was layered in three jumpers instead of one. It was a cold night. 541588 ordered the others to march; east, toward the wheat farms and the grain sheds. It itself disappeared toward the centre of the commune, where the manufactory lay. It hoped to prepare fire that it could use to set the fields alight and destroy the sheds there. It had been to the manufactory thrice before; once during a school excursion to
learn about the place, again during an incognito trip it had made to scout the location, and a third time to plant the materials it needed to start a fire. The manufactory itself was one of dozens around the city. It was near the end of its age cycle, its concrete walls showing the scars of defying the elements for forty odd years. The new one had already begun construction in the empty plot next to it, and the old manufactory would be demolished within the next few years, its raw materials sent away to be recycled. These could not be used in the new building, since the new manufactory had to be ready the day the old one closed.
541588 entered, finding a slow way through the dark with outstretched hands. This manufactory was used for the production of various wooden objects. Doors, chairs, tables, bed frames were all made here. 541588 climbed over some work benches, and felt its way to the wood scrap bin that sat in the middle of the room. It was emptied in the morning and so it was presently brimming. 541588 reached in, feeling through the different shapes and angles, eventually finding itself a nice long and flat piece of wood. It eased it out as smooth as it could, but as soon as the piece was dislodged, the intricate puzzle inside the bin collapsed, causing a flurry of noise.
It didn't matter; no-one was going to come. They never did, and that was the real problem. But 541588 was sure a fire would entice them, force them. It crawled back over the benches with the wood plank in hand, and proceeded toward the drills. It found the switch, flicked it, and a dim red light appeared, allowing it just enough visibility to begin working. Of course, it was far too impractical to make all the eclectic machines, such as drill machines in the one commune. There was a necessary trade between communes, with each specialising in making a specific piece of machinery. Whenever a commune needed such equipment, the leader could send a message to another leader requesting one, and this equipment would be soon made available.
541588 placed the piece of wood under the drill and slowly lowered the drill until it hit the wood, where it allowed the drill bit to rest, whirring maniacally. Pungent smoke emanated from the mutilation, filling the air with a heavy haze and soon there was a deep hole in the wood filled with fine black dust. Then the first embers appeared, small orange lights that flickered as the drill tossed them around the hole. 541588 hastily stopped the machine, pulled out a few crumpled, dried pieces of paper it had shoved under its shirt and fed it onto the embers. They were the messages from the "ally", the enemy. Well at least they were being put to good use now. The paper caught alight easily, and the flames eventually spread to engulf everything, shining with a defiant energy until the fuel was used up. Then there were only embers again. It needed to get these to the farms, six kilometres away.
A few weeks beforehand, it had begun the plan for this specific night. It had found an Army Survival Manual sitting in the library, and inside were detailed instructions on how to create, fuel and carry a fire. As it read and learnt more, the idea of starting a fire in the commune seemed a distinct possibility. It scoured its memory, finding the ingredients, the tools; everything it needed to execute this plan. Elements that floated in its head turned into concrete ideas; the pieces of wood and the drills in the manufactory, the paper from the ally, the bucket from the recycling plant, and all these congealed into a rock, a purpose. Then it began to act, scouting various manufactories, drying its paper in the sun, sneaking an empty tin of paint from the recycling plant and hiding it under a corner table. Everything was ready for tonight. Now, it found the tin again and deposited the embers and the rest of its paper into it. Then it departed the manufactory and headed toward the fields, as the first signs of the new day streaked across the clouded sky and the sun poked through the horizon. It was running out of time, the people were soon going to begin work in the field.
Chapter Two
They stood awkwardly, clumped together on the boundary between the field and the road like a collection of erratics and watched as 541588 ran around them and onto the field. It ordered them to stay where they were and prevent it from being disturbed. They weren't going to move anyway. Then it crouched down among the wheat, placed the tin on the ground, opened it and cradled out its contents. The embers had died. It seemed that there was only blackened paper, dust and ash left. 51488 leaned in and blew on it, spiralling ash into the air that caught the wind and disappeared. Otherwise, there was nothing, the small pile showing no signs of flaring back to life. It kept working, desperately trying to conjure the fire that it had worked so hard to prepare. Still nothing. It was almost ready to give up when it caught a glimpse of the orange that it craved, and with renewed focus, it willed the bundle to turn into fire. For another ten minutes, it tried everything, varying its breath, its mouth shape, the intensity of air; minutes of dedication on each technique, and it received nothing in return. The sun edged its way up the sky, and 514588 knew that within the hour, there would be people emerging from their apartments, ready for work in the fields. No, it had to stop soon. It dropped the pile on the ground and gave it one final burst of air. Nothing. It had to leave now, no chance, nothing left. The quickly thickening clouds above amply reflected 541588's despairing mood. It had planned, it had worked, it had executed, and all for nought. "Come," And the group trudged back to their apartment.
As 541588 returned to its room, the workers left, having been satiated by a delicious breakfast, ready for a happy day of enjoyable work. As 541588 lay on its bed, defeated, they took to the fields under the darkening clouds. As 541588 tossed its mattress, ripped apart its blankets and punched the walls in angry confusion, they had started to retreat. Too slowly. A jet of blue flew down from among the clouds and struck with a furious clap upon the field where the kindling had been left. 541588 was jolted out of its malaise by the thunder, and when it looked out the window, it saw a most beauteous sight. There was fire; a roaring, bright, yellow destruction. The rain was no match as the lightning lit more fires, and the dry wheat surrendered to the all-powerful flames. 541588 was awed, moved, engrossed in the tremendous spectacle. Its failures had somehow transmuted into great success, and its anger and sadness quickly dissipated, replaced by pure contentedness. And there was a new feeling. The feeling of destiny. Whenever there had been a problem, whenever it had slipped up, whenever something seemingly went wrong, there was a greater force that overturned these mistakes and it always ended up closer to its goal. From what 541588 could see, the destruction was total. The wheat crops were gone. And the ramifications would be felt almost instantaneously. The workers would have fled, without a clue what to do next. And by harvest time, a season of missed produce would have to have a damaging effect. Something would have to give. 541588 was satisfied. The next stage could begin.
Chapter Three
The leader of the commune was sitting alone in its control room. It watched the destruction unfold from a collection of screens on the wall. It saw 514588 meddling in the manufactory, saw it conduct some sort of process in the fields with its deconditioned group and then saw the disastrous effects of that process. And though 0 had seen multiple thunderstorms throughout its life, it had never seen one so ferocious, one that would set fire to the crops. Now, things were starting to fall out of its control despite everything it tried to do. It chastised itself as it watched the fields and the crops burning in the brilliant fire. The fault lay with itself. 514588 had been borne out of an inattentiveness of its predecessor, but 0 had many opportunities to rein it in. Instead it had, as much as it loathed to say, enjoyed the spectacle of 514588's life. It was boring, the days sitting alone in front of the terminal, eternally monitoring nothing, so when it discovered 514588, it thought it some harmless entertainment. But then, it escalated, of course it would, and it happened far too quickly for 0 to handle. The failed crops were an issue, but the commune could still function as normal; they had a large amount of emergency rations in storage. There was enough food in there to last them to the next harvest season. If 541588 could get its hands on that, then there would be real trouble. That would starve the commune, or even wo
rse, allow 541588 to take control of it.
0 looked at the screens again and saw the disoriented workers running back to their apartments as the wind swept the fire in their direction. On another screen there was 514588, lying on its back, smiling deliriously. The idiot! It was too stupid to understand what it was doing and how much damage it was causing, but it could somehow constantly conjure up new methods of ruin. The murder, the torture, the deconditioning and now the fire. It was an evil too much for 0 to handle. It moved over to its computer and initiated a never used program.
After a short period of loading, a stern face showed on the screen. 0 was not used to seeing the faces of those from the central control. This one was lined with old age and sprouted grizzled grey hair. His strange appearance did not help with 0's nervousness. It knew that this was only for emergency situations, and was embarrassed to have to use it, but it was too important, too necessary. It was out of options.
"There's a problem I need help. It was?it was the one before me. It didn't? didn't do it properly and now there's this it wasn't my fault and there's one that didn't get conditioned properly, didn't get the BCM and now?" it trailed off. The face on the other side of the screen remained silent, and the quiet lingered for long enough that 0 was emboldened to continue. "It was, it was fine at first, then it, it killed one of the others and then somehow started to decondition some more, and then today, it, I, I don't know what it did, but there was a storm and massive storm, I'd never seen anything like it before and there was lightning," a shaking boom at that very moment verified the veracity of this statement, "and then the crops were set on fire and I don't know what to do or what it's going to do and if the grain stores are destroyed or the, if it destroys the grain stores, then we'll be without food and then we'll?" 0 trailed off again as it contemplated the potential and very disastrous consequences of this likelihood.