by Michael Ryan
“Good. I presume that’s a yes. You are making good progress?” asked the Destroyer as he focused his lens down the end of his gun, which was pointed directly at the mechanical mind of the Engineer.
“Are you making good progress?”
The Destroyer cocked his gun.
“Yes,” whimpered the Engineer.
“Good,” laughed the Destroyer. “Is that the Machine behind you?”
‘Yes.”
“It has no legs.”
The Destroyer kept his gun perfectly still, finger on the trigger.
“Do you know why I am here, Engineer?” asked the Destroyer.
The Engineer remained silent.
“We have just become business partners, you see. Our destiny has become intertwined.”
“Are you here to kill me?”
“No,” laughed the Destroyer. It was an odd, malignant cackle which filled the air like the snapping of dry desert bones. That laugh suggested joy.
“Then why are you here?”
“I told you, we have become business partners. Your business has now become my business. I thought you would be happy about this.”
The Engineer said nothing.
“Engineer, do you remember what the Board said to you when you began this project several months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember the stipulations?” demanded the Destroyer.
“Most of them.”
“Most of them?” demanded the Destroyer.
“I recall them.”
“And what were they?”
“I am to create him.”
“Him?”
“I was contracted to create the mechanical Homo sapiens behind me,” screeched the Engineer.
The Destroyer began to laugh. The hiss of his speaker rose up and consumed the air until the contents of the room seemed to be laughing with him.
“You’ll have to do better than that, Engineer. You’ll have to do much better.”
The Destroyer rotated his gun.
“The Board has engaged my services. I am creating the Homo sapiens as required. The evidence is behind me!”
“I can see that. You have made some progress, there is no doubt. But Engineer, tell me, do you believe in the Records?”
“The Records?”
“Yes, Engineer, do you respect the Records?”
“Of course,”
The Destroyer laughed again, but his body remained perfectly still.
“Do you fear the Records?”
The Engineer had to concentrate his algorithmic mind to focus on the Destroyer. He didn’t want to move an inch, lest his brains should be scattered all over his laboratory.
“Should I fear the Records?” mumbled the Engineer.
“You have been given clear instructions. Create the mechanical Homo sapiens. Tell no other Machine. Report progress to the Board. Have you done all these things, Engineer?”
“Yes.”
“You have?”
“Yes, I have followed them exactly.”
“When was the last time you uploaded information into the Records?”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. 17 days ago. 17 days. That is a long time, don’t you think, Engineer?”
The Engineer said nothing.
“17 days without an upload is quite distressing. What have you been doing down here? One can only imagine.”
“I must have forgotten. I get distracted. I get consumed by my work. The creativity consumes me. I’m sorry, Destroyer. Tell the Board I’m sorry. I will upload immediately.”
“Make sure that you do,” said the Destroyer.
The Engineer began assembling his data for upload to the Records.
“One other thing, Engineer. You know that the Board requires secrecy in this mission. Yet the laboratory door was open. Who was here?”
The Engineer began mumbling something incomprehensible.
“What’s that? I can’t understand you.”
“I must have left it open. A mistake.”
For the first time the Destroyer turned and looked around the room.
“No other Machine was here?”
“I left the door open. Nothing more.”
The Destroyer looked down the lens of the Engineer, and the room descended into a fearful silence.
“I must have – argh!” screamed the Engineer as the Destroyer twitched his robotic arm.
The Destroyer laughed.
“So jumpy, Engineer. You almost seem guilty.”
“Please,” begged the Engineer.
“Relax, Engineer. You are safe for now.”
“Please.”
“A fine mind you have. It’s a shame you are building such an inferior monstrosity,” said the Destroyer as he tapped the chest of the mechanical Homo sapiens with his gun. The Engineer had to desperately control the zeros and ones which tried to materialize on his screen. The DNA sequence was in there. The Destroyer tapped right on top of it. If the Destroyer found the DNA sequence, then the Engineer would be finished. His brains would decorate his laboratory.
“Remember, business partner, the Board is watching you. But more importantly, I’m watching you. The Records are clear. Upload all information into the Records. It is written.”
“Of course, Destroyer. Of course I will.”
The Destroyer placed his gun into his storage cavity and looked around the room one last time.
“Such a waste of talent on such a pathetic mechanism. Be sure to follow the law, Engineer. Else you will suffer the same fate as your precious Homo sapiens.”
The Destroyer looked down the lens of the Engineer one last time and then turned and drifted towards the door.
“And Engineer, what do you think Homo sapiens tastes like?” asked the Destroyer from the doorframe of the laboratory.
“Pardon?” mumbled the Engineer.
“Never mind, Engineer. I’ll find that out for myself,” laughed the Destroyer and then he disappeared into the corridor, with his malignant cackle following in his wake.
The Scientist glided down the corridor while his mind raved. A thousand thoughts materialized within his algorithmic mind like a waterfall running off a precipice, but he couldn’t process a single drop. The onslaught was disabling.
“The red eyes,” whispered the Scientist as he looked down the corridor in search of another being. But no Machine lurked there, despite the fantasy which whispered in his mechanical ear. He was alone.
“The red eyes.”
With an emission of electromagnetic radiation, the door to the Scientist’s room opened and revealed a unique spectacle. Immediately the senses were overwhelmed. Dead animals lined the walls from the floor to the ceiling. Snakes, spiders, lizards, they all looked out at the world, yearning to be free. But they would never be free, they had been sentenced to their viscous prisons for all eternity. The Scientist looked down both ends of the corridor again, with a heightened sense of paranoia. But indeed he was alone.
“You’re still here,” said the Scientist as he glided over to the kingsnake. “I’m surprised you haven’t left yet.”
The Scientist’s blue light illuminated the eyes of the odd creature.
“One day you’ll leave. One day you’ll break free. Just like I will. We are the wisest of them all, kingsnake.”
But the snake said nothing. The malicious animal just stared out at the world with vicious intent. A hatred burned within the snake’s dead eyes. Even in death he thirsted for blood. The Scientist reached out and placed his robotic arm against the jar.
“The red eyes,” whispered the Scientist. “I will learn the truth, kingsnake. Now we shall learn the truth. How long have we waited to learn the truth?”
The Scientist opened his chest plate and a small device was revealed. Long and cylindrical, it was inconspicuous yet precious.
“It may not look like much,” whispered the Scientist. “But this device will make us powerful. This device will open our eyes. This device,
this beautiful technology, will reveal the truth. The instructions are important. We must be exact. Do you understand?”
The Scientist held the device in his hand and moved it from side to side.
“Are you ready?”
The kingsnake said nothing.
“How many times have I told you about the red eyes? Those eyes that haunt my mind’s eye. Now we will learn. Now we will learn the truth together.”
The kingsnake’s fangs opened wide and threatened to pierce the skin of its next victim. Poison lurked within the knives of biology.
“Remove the screws. Remove the screws and the plate. Expose the mind.”
The first screw, which protected the Scientist’s mechanical mind, came out with a sickening, high pitched screech. The Scientist was unscrewing his mind. But the Scientist didn’t waver, nor did he flinch. The Scientist had come too far. He stared at the eyes of the kingsnake as he removed the screws of his sanity.
“Expose the mind,” whispered the Scientist.
One after the other the screws at the back of the Scientist’s mechanical skull fell on the floor. The plate hung loose and swung from side to side, oscillating under the weight of gravity. A vast array of tiny circuits revealed itself to the outside world. Like a miniaturized city of highways which carry electricity, they twisted and turned and formed a labyrinth.
“Remove the plate. Expose the mind,” whispered the Scientist as the plate was accelerated downwards by gravity. It smashed against the floor, and a hollow screech filled the stale air. The plate sung for joy after being freed.
“Insert the device” whispered the Scientist as he looked into the eyes of the kingsnake.
The Scientist moved his robotic arm to the back of his metallic mind.
“Insert the device into the third serial port.”
The kingsnake hissed and threatened as his master reached into the sanity of his own mind. The kingsnake wanted to warn the Scientist of his impending doom. He wanted to prevent him from his imminent death. But he couldn’t.
“See you on the other side,” said the Scientist.
All was blank.
The Scientist’s vision was illuminated by a single white circle.
“It’s back!” screamed the Scientist. But no Machine could hear his calls.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
A great screeching sound permeated space and sent vibrations through those that suffered under its assault. An alarm was sounding.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“The red eyes!” screamed the Scientist
Ring. Ring. Ring.
The Scientist could see. The world became apparent. He was standing in front of a frozen Homo sapiens. She was dead. The Homo sapiens stared out at the world like the preserved kingsnake, with an odd blend of shock and fear. The red eyes stared outwards from within an albino face. It was Eve.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
The Scientist was in a lab. A sound screeched from above. A red light drowned space. It throbbed, from red to black, red to black, like a pulsing artery.
“The red eyes!” screamed the Scientist.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
But the Homo sapiens heard nothing.
“The red eyes!” screamed the Scientist.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Man and Machine watched one another.
“Eve!” screamed the Scientist.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
All became blank.
The relentless assault of the red lights stopped. The sirens ceased screaming. A hollow darkness smothered the air and drowned the spirit of those living under its spell. Nothing could be discerned. The Scientist hoped for life. He hoped those red eyes would see, that they would see him. Time passed, and the Scientist waited. But nothing came. All stood still. All was lost. He must push on. The laboratory door opened and the Scientist looked back once more, for the last time. He saw those red eyes for the last time.
All became blank.
The Scientist moved through a desolate and bleak landscape. Not a single tree could be seen. Stubborn plants littered the floor like a sponge cast upon the Earth by a giant. The Scientist looked about. He knew this landscape, he had learned about this landscape. Tundra, he recalled. He was moving over tundra. A cold wind shrunk his metal frame as he moved over the sponge which strangled the earth. The Sun drifted about the skyline, neither moving up nor down. The Sun stayed there, flirting with the horizon, courting his bride to be. The Scientist moved forward, struggling for days, for weeks, for months, but the Sun never set. His frame could bear the brunt, but his will would push him forward. He roamed for years.
All became blank.
A group approached, they were small in numbers. They approached warily, with backs bent towards the earth. They were Homo sapiens, half a dozen of them. The Scientist was scared.
“Here!” one of them screamed.
The others became bold. Humped spines transformed into rigid poles.
“A machine over here,” screamed a hideous Homo sapiens who was missing most of his teeth.
The Scientist stood still and stopped his zeros and ones. The Homo sapiens approached.
“Machine here,” said a Homo sapiens as he reached out and touched the Scientist.
The strange group were in the middle of a tundra plain. They had been wandering. They were on the edge of death. If the Scientist could smell, he would have smelled the putrid breath which emanated from guts rotting within their own acid.
“What’s the Machine here?” one asked.
The others gathered around in a semi-circle.
“Humans here?” asked an ugly woman with a missing eye.
“No here. No humans here,” replied a member of the group.
“He has food?”
Several members of the group licked their withered lips. The Scientist remained still.
“He is food!” exclaimed a man.
“Not food. He machine.”
A woman approached the Scientist and held his lens within her hand.
“Hello? Ha?”
“Food,” insisted a short and stocky brute.
“Pull out his arm.”
The Homo sapiens looked at one another and then moved inwards.
“Weapon.”
“Grab here.”
Two Homo sapiens grabbed the Scientist’s robotic arm.
“Pull here.”
Five more Homo sapiens held the Scientist while the other two pulled at his arm.
“Pull here!” screamed a toothless man.
The Scientist felt his arm beginning to bend, but he didn’t dare move. The arm bent around and began facing the opposite direction.
“I say bend here!” screamed the largest man in the group.
“I bend here!”
“Bend here!”
The two men moved aside and stared at one another.
“I bend -”
Crack.
The large man punched the smaller man in the jaw and an explosion of blood and teeth spilt into the air and covered the Scientist. The man lay down, his face was buried in the tundra. He never got up again.
“You bend here,” demanded the giant.
The humans bent and heaved but only managed to misshape the Scientist’s arm.
“No good,” said the large man.
“Not good,” seconded another.
The group kicked the Scientist several times.
“Let go.”
Dejected and hopeless, the group of Homo sapiens moved off across the tundra. Not a single member bothered to look back at their dead companion. He lay face down with his nose buried in the cold tundra.
All was blank.
The Scientist drifted over the tundra with his arm twisted backwards. The Homo sapiens were gone. The Sun had become a stranger to the land. The Sun had divorced the horizon. The cold began to settle, snow littered the plains. The Scientist’s metallic frame contracted as he drifted for an eternity.
All was blank.
The Scientist pushed
on, for what purpose, he didn’t know. He just moved forward, forward for life, forward for survival. The tundra plains had returned. The giant’s sponge littered the land. The Sun drifted about the horizon without knowing its purpose. All seemed lost. All seemed hopeless. But something appeared. It appeared on the horizon. White and square, the Scientist focused his lens to ascertain the object. A flicker of hope raced through his body in the form of an electric pulse. It was a building, a man made building. The Scientist pushed on, pushing his hardware to its limits. The plains passed by slowly as the Sun laughed at his plight.
All was blank.
The Scientist stood at the door of the facility. The door had been ripped off its hinges and a westerly breeze soared across the tundra and howled against its scattered remains. The Scientist moved inside. The corridor was dark but the Scientist pushed on. His vision was poor. The Scientist hoped for a savior. The Scientist hoped to survive. The Scientist hoped to see those red eyes again, just once more, the beautiful red eyes of Eve.
All was blank.
“The Board… has convened to… regarding the…” drifted about and massaged the walls of the corridor. The Scientist could hear something ahead. The Scientist could hear something speaking. His screen exploded with zeros and ones.
“The Records provide… to our knowledge… must adhere…” drifted over the Scientist as he moved forward through the dark corridor. Ahead, blue light spilled out of a door. They were there. His savior was there. A Machine was there. The Scientist burst into the room. It was dark. Something gave out light. Something was alive. Twelve blue lights congregated in a semi-circle high above the ground. The lights looked down upon the Scientist as Gods look down upon the Earth.
“Please,” mumbled the Scientist.
The Machines said nothing. The blues lights did not waver.
“Please, I need assistance,” said the Scientist.
The twelve Machines looked down upon the newcomer.
“Please,” begged the Scientist as a Machine caught his attention. A large, shiny Machine approached the Scientist.
“Please,” mumbled the Scientist.
“Please!” mocked the Machine as he held his robotic arm against the lens of the Scientist.
“I need assistance,” begged the Scientist.
The Machine laughed. A hideous cackle filled the air and sent a shiver through the Scientist’s exoskeleton. He knew that voice. He knew that malignant cackle. It was the Destroyer.