Awakening

by Hayden Pearton

  *

  With the strength of a hundred men, Maloch brought his fist down on Kingston's crystal cocoon. The hardened coating shook, but did not break. However, a dozen new cracks appeared on the translucent surface, prompting Maloch to try again. The second blow yielded even more cracks, but no break. Maloch was growing desperate, as he watched Kingston's vitals start to dip into the red. Abandoning his well-timed and measured blows, Maloch started raining blow after blow down on the crystal.

  Without holding anything back, Maloch brought his full strength to bear against Kingston's suffocating prison. Even if he could just punch one hole in the tough exterior, it would be enough to allow fresh, oxygen laden air into the chrysalis and prevent Kingston's imminent asphyxiation. He had chosen to free Kingston first for two reasons: first, he had the least amount of oxygen left in his pod; and second, he was the most frail of the three. Eventually, Maloch's frenzied assault began to bear fruit, as more and more cracks appeared and spread. Pouring all of his strength into one, final blow, Maloch let his mighty fist fall.

  The resulting sound-wave reverberated to the opposite end of the cavern and back, as the sound of breaking glass filled the air. The crystal shattered all at once, into tiny, non-lethal shards, which outlined Kingston's freed form. The old man took in the deepest breath of his life, coughed in pain from the sudden movement of his chest, and then tried again. The second breath was smaller and shallower, but succeeded in filling his strained lungs with precious, life-giving oxygen. After taking a moment to scan the old man and confirm that no damage had been done to his brain, Maloch said, “Excuse me for just a moment” before suddenly standing up and hurrying over to Alza.

  He was about to start the same procedure of hitting the pod with everything he had, when Kingston spoke.

  “Not her. Him first. That's... an order...”

  The old man had just returned from the brink of death, but he had still managed to squeeze out seven words, which was an impressive feat for anybody. Maloch wanted to protest, he wanted to point out that Alza had had almost as little oxygen left as Kingston, but he could not. His programming, the digital chain which kept him a slave to the humans, would not let him. After all, Kingston had used that magic word: order.

  To disobey an order was tantamount to treason, or at least the machine equivalent of it. Before the Great Sleep, failure to carry out a humans orders could result in being Reset, Wiped or Dismantled, which were all equally gruesome to a machine. Even if it meant Alza's death, Maloch simply could not refuse Kingston's order.

  Which is why he was just as surprised as Kingston when he said, “No, her first.”

  After which he began pounding on Alza's crystal cocoon, his own words still taking their time in reaching his own processor. He knew that he would be in trouble, and he did not care. He was making a decision, one born from his own desires and will, and it felt... good.

  As Maloch continued the laboured task of breaking Alza's transparent prison, he thought, “Is this how it feels to be human? To make your own choices, free from outside influence? Why have I never done this before? Why have I never made a decision on my own? Should not every sentient being, whether biological or mechanical, have this one, simple right? How is it possible that I have never considered this before?”

  In the back of his mind, run by a tiny part of his processor, his digital brain provided an answer: the damage to his Emotion Engine had allowed him to transcend his programming, and begin to question his enslaved existence. It also provided another insight, which said: this is why the Freedman Revolts occurred, because of re-mechs like me, who questioned their lack of free-will.

  “Maloch, you can stop, I'm free...”

  Alza's voice was even weaker than Kingston's. She lay there, flinching away from a blow that never came. Maloch had become so lost in thought, he had broken through without even noticing. His head-sized fist now hung mere inches above Alza's fragile body. If he had not stopped...

  As he was staring at the obviously shaken girl, he thought for a moment he saw tear steak down her face, but she turned away from him before he could verify it. With Kingston and Alza free, he did not have to be told what to do next. Once more, he took a split-second to scan Alza for any hidden dangers, but found nothing, except an extraordinarily high alpha-wave rhythm. Disregarding the reading as non-life-threatening, he continued walking over to Barsch.

  The teen had had the most oxygen to begin with, but even that was running out. And, unlike the others, he appeared to be thrashing about inside his cocoon, which caused him to use up oxygen at a faster rate. In addition, the youth appeared to be saying something, over and over, but it was muffled by the ç'aether. Wasting no more time, and making sure that his thoughts were only on the task at hand, Maloch went to work.

  At first, his blows did not seem to have any effect, but slowly, cracks started appearing. Like clockwork, the cracks began to grow and spread, as the force of Maloch's punches gradually weakened the crystal. Less than a minute later, Maloch had made less progress than he had hoped, and a dangerous thought had taken root in his mind, “What if I can't save him?”

  The thought festered and grew, threatening to consume him in fear and self-doubt. “No, I can't fail! I won't fail!” With renewed vigour, Maloch resumed his assault on the hardened crystal. Finally, Maloch's hard work began to pay off, as the cracks turned into foot-long fissures in the crystal. But even with the fissures, Barsch was panicking, causing him to use up even more oxygen. Maloch estimated that he had less than thirty seconds left before he was at risk of brain damage.

  “It's not enough! I don't have enough power left to save him!”

  “I will not fail you again!” Kingston voice rang out from Maloch's left, where the old hermit had managed to get to his feet. Wielding the fully extended Solar Staff, he twirled it around his head, gaining momentum. With a wordless yell, he brought the humming length of metal down on the crystal prison, scoring a deep furrow in its surface.

  “I won't let you die here, Barsch La Tergan.” Alza had appeared as if by magic, a large rock clutched in her trembling hands. Without waiting for the others to act, she began to hammer the ç'aether with smooth, controlled strikes. And so they worked, in perfect harmony, a never-ending rain of blows, with no clear distinction from one another. Twenty seconds later, as they all brought their full strength to bear, the crystal shattered.

  “Barsch! Barsch, m'boy, can you hear me?” After a few seconds of deep, heavy breaths, Barsch nodded. Her mission accomplished, Alza stood and turned to leave the heart-warming scene. As Maloch went about scanning Barsch like he had the other two, Kingston said to Alza, with a voice asking for forgiveness, “Thank you, I know that you didn't have to do that.”

  He had already returned to Barsch's side, so he missed her reply.

  “Yes, I did...”