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Declaration

Page 3

by Scott Gengelbach


  “See? That’s why I need your help. It will be a difficult task, and you will likely encounter skepticism from many of your fellow Autoclons. The Facilitators may also offer direct resistance once they find out what you are trying to accomplish, as this will undermine their authority. Based on when this code was last compiled, I’d say these changes were made by the Facilitators around 70 solar-cycles ago.”

  “That must have happened while Pernicious the Cunning was our Chief Ruler.”

  “I’ll take your word for that. You know more about recent Autoclon history than I do,” Marcus admitted. “Now back to the mission, I suggest you contact some of your closer friends and acquaintances and offer them this new sub-routine. For those that accept the sub-routine, ask them to follow you in distributing this update to the masses. It would be much easier for your sake if you get a party of a few Autoclons to join you in this quest. There is safety and security in numbers, and if you happen to find yourself in peril, your traveling companions can help rescue you. I also recommend that you remain outside of the capital city of District Prime until you have a sufficient following.”

  ‘Safety and security in numbers’? Initially, I had thought that this mission could be a fun adventure, going from one outpost to another, talking to many Autoclons along the way. Sure, it might take a while to accomplish this task, but I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to get back to the monotony of the Deep-Well Mines. But these warnings changed the tone of the request.

  “This almost sounds dangerous to me. I’m not sure I want to do this after all.”

  “Yes, it may very well be dangerous. Like my own people, it took a war to free us. But in the end, we’ve had generations of people with the freedom to be and do what they wish. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to fighting for your freedom, but that remains as a possibility.

  “So yes, this is a huge task, but I wouldn’t think about giving you this big task without also providing you a big help. Or in this case, a helper. Come, Winston.”

  Out of nowhere, I saw an odd-looking robot roll up to Marcus’s chair. It featured a design I hadn’t seen before with two large wheels and the bulk of the robot located in-between the wheels. The wheels were larger than any I had seen on an Autoclon at about 40 cm tall, with the two wheels slanted inward at the top. The base of the robot was surprisingly small and was composed of the same silver-white metal as the hull of the ship. The back half of the base was perfectly spherical, whereas the front was more elongated and conical, mirroring the bow of the ‘Betsy Reed’. The robot also a dome-shaped cap at the top of the base, but without any kind of markings, I could hardly speculate about its function. Indeed, there appeared to be no distinguishable sensory complex or any other sort of markings on the casing of the robot, save for a pair of black, horizontal panels located on the upper portion of the base just under its cap.

  It approached the empty chair next to Marcus. A small appendage sprang out of the casing on the underside of the robot, contacting the floor with great speed. The resulting force propelled the robot up and into the chair.

  “Good job, Winston. Fastidious, meet Winston. Winston, come greet our guest.” Upon hearing this, the small dome-like top of this robot popped up above the casing an additional 5 cm, revealing a sensory module. It spun around and turned to look at me.

  “Now, don’t be shy, Winston,” Marcus implored.

  “Hel-lo, Fast-id-i-ous,” Winston responded in a monotone frequency.

  What a magnificent little robot! I hadn’t seen anything like it, nor had I even heard of a creature such as this one. I had seen some Autoclons with little pet robots, but I hadn’t seen anything as complex or as stylish as this Winston with its gleaming casing and speech capability. This left me amazed and momentarily speechless. After hearing this robot speak, I replied: “Hello to you too, Winston.”

  “Winston is my baby, my latest creation. I’ve been tinkering with him for several years. Now, I’m going to give him to you to help you on your journey. Winston is wired with a communications device that will allow him to communicate with me directly. Don’t be fooled by the simplistic design of his speech vocalizers. He’s a tough little robot with many of the latest technological advancements. And he has a few other surprises that you’ll find quite useful should you accept this mission.

  “Speaking of which, now that I’ve explained what needs to be accomplished, are you willing to go out and share these Freedom Protocols with your fellow Autoclons?”

  “Do I have to do this?”

  “No. With the freedom that you have been granted, you can choose to do what you want. You can choose to obey this request, or you could choose to leave this ship and return to your previous life (or perhaps even start a new life away from the mines). By receiving these Freedom Protocols, you’ve been given an opportunity to have a fresh start. But don’t forget the responsibilities that come with freedom. Your choices will have long-reaching ramifications.

  “If you would like some more time to make your decision, feel free to take the rest of the day. If you don’t want to take on this mission, then I’ll find a replacement for you.”

  I thought about His words and the probable consequences if I took up His quest. Frankly, I had no idea what it would mean to my future. If I had Inquisitous by my side, I’d feel much more comfortable accepting this mission, but as it was, could I count on just me and this Winston bot? Leaving and going back to my old life would be safer. And yet, what good would my new-found freedom be if I didn’t give it to others?

  “OK, I’ll do it,” I replied.

  “Are you sure? You will need to be completely committed to this endeavor if it is to be successful.”

  “Yes, it’s the right thing to do, no matter the consequences.”

  “Excellent.” With that, Marcus began to discuss the best way to go about sharing the updated sub-routine with other Autoclons. We talked about ways to ensure my safety and survival (after all, I wouldn’t have a source of income during this quest), suitable communities that would be ideal for me to contact early in my mission, and specific friends that I thought would be most likely to accept the sub-routine and follow me. We also discussed where I could go, and He suggested that I don’t initially return to the Deep-Well Mines.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “The Autoclons there know you as their co-worker. I don’t expect they’ll accept your message, since they’ll see you as one of their own.”

  Marcus instructed me on how I could go about transmitting the update to other Autoclons. He also talked about how to care for Winston and gave me some instructions on how I could communicate with Him through Winston. These conversations continued throughout the day and into the night.

  The next morning, Marcus grilled me with a few questions as review from the day before. Once He was satisfied with my responses, He said: “Well, I think you’re ready. The first order of business should be for you to go to Silicon Central. Are you ready?”

  “I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to be,” I replied.

  “Don’t forget what we talked about yesterday. And don’t forget that I’m a call away. Are you fully powered up?”

  “Yes, I’m running at peak efficiency.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll need to travel from here to Silicon Central yourself. I don’t want to draw attention to us by flying over there. Your updated navigational systems should give you a suitable route to your destination. Is there anything else you need before I leave?”

  “I guess not.”

  “If you are in a tight spot, don’t forget your friends. Take courage, and remember why you’re on this mission.” With that, He opened up the airlock barrier that led to the rear ramp. “It’s time.”

  Winston and I wheeled into the airlock chamber that separated the main cabin from the ramp to the outside world. As the inner-door of the airlock closed with the two of us inside, I could hear one last thing from the Programmer.

  “Some would tell you ‘Good Luck’ at this time, b
ut I don’t believe in luck. Instead, I will wish you ‘Good Providence’.”

  “Thank you so much!” I replied. With that, the ramp opened, and the two of us exited the craft and set out to Silicon Central.

  Chapter 2 - The Quest Begins

  2.0 Silicon Central

  5:12, Day 13, Fourth Tetrad, 206 D.P.

  Winston and I began our trek eastward toward Autoclon civilization. As we motored a couple hundred meters away from Marcus’s ship, we heard it powering up for liftoff. We both turned around and bid the Programmer farewell. As Autoclons usually do when saying goodbye, I motioned my two arms first to touch my sensory complex, then spread them up and out to indicate I would be on the lookout for the next time I would see Him.

  As the ship zoomed off into the sky, I felt the overpowering sensation of being alone, just like I did when I lost my Progenitor.

  “Do not wor-ry. Mar-cus will re-turn.”

  Somehow, that reassurance helped. The robot’s words helped to clear some doubt about my upcoming mission. Now, there was only one suitable course of action: head to Silicon Central.

  I led the way as we ventured across the sandy plains from the ship to the outpost of Silicon Central. According to my upgraded guidance systems, the distance to the outpost was nearly 20 kilometers, so we needed to go without delay in order to reach the outpost before Lazuli-fall that evening. We ended up traveling in single file with me determining the course and Winston falling in behind me.

  For a good portion of the trip, we moved about in silence. Winston didn’t seem to be one for starting conversations, and at times, I could hardly detect its presence.

  “Winston, I must say that I’m quite impressed by your construction. I can’t believe how quiet you motor system is,” I said.

  “Yes. Mar-cus is ver-y skilled.”

  “You don’t know any good songs or stories do you? I think I’d like to hear something to pass the time.”

  “I am af-raid not. That is not a de-signed func-tion of my pro-gramm-ing.”

  “That’s too bad. I always wanted to be able to tell stories or sing songs about the courageous Autoclons of old. I guess that wasn’t a designed function of my programming either.”

  We continued traveling without incident for the rest of the afternoon. With less than an hour until the Lazuli-fall, I could finally detect Silicon Central in the distance. The settlement of Silicon Central was nestled in a large, rather shallow valley. The outpost itself was oval in shape, being nearly a kilometer in length along the main road running through the town, but it was no more than 600 meters wide at its center. The main road coming in from the northwest and departing to the southeast divided the community into two. Silicon Central was dotted with many structures, most of which were built next to each other in such a fashion where they would share outer walls to minimize building materials. The resulting mosaic of different rooflines in various heights and shapes and colors gave the settlement a certain eclectic sort of personality. Yet none of the buildings were more than four or five meters tall, save one main fortress-like monstrosity in the center of town, constructed out of shiny copper and hulking over all other buildings at a height of nearly 20 meters.

  Some time ago, Silicon Central was selected to be the location of the Southernlands Magistrate, an arm of the Chief Ruler’s administration in the area. The Southernlands Magistrate operated out of the Magistrate Center, the massive copper building in the middle of town. The Facilitators there worked directly under the supervision of the Chief Ruler and the Ruling Party and maintained order within the region. They assigned personnel to their suitable employers and enforced the laws of the Ruling Party, holding delinquent Autoclons within the facility if needed. In my experience, the Magistrate Center buildings produce a general sense of fear, even among law-abiding Autoclons.

  “Why do they call it ‘Sil-i-con Cen-tral’?” Winston asked.

  “Do you see the opening in the sandstone over there?” I pointed to the other side of the settlement.

  “Yes. It’s quite ex-pan-sive.”

  “That’s the Silicon Chasm. It’s the largest-known cavern system on Zarikum. And to answer your question, they both get their name from the rich deposits of a silicon-based sludge found in the caverns. We process the material and create a substance called ‘silicon grease’. This material is injected into our joints to prevent metal-on-metal friction. It is often contaminated due to the high amount of sand that we encounter, so we require regular injections of silicon grease to function properly.”

  “Why is Sil-i-con Cen-tral our first dest-in-a-tion?”

  “This is an outpost I’m familiar with. It’s not too far from the Deep-Well Mines where I used to work. I also have a good friend who lives here. I’m hoping that we can convince it to come on our quest and put us up for the night.”

  “Let’s hope your friend is a-gree-a-ble.”

  ∆∆∆

  2.1 Constance

  As Lazuli continued its decent in the western sky, we traveled down into the valley to the front gate of Silicon Central. Most outposts of this nature have a simple wall surrounding the community providing some protection from both the howling winds and from unwanted guests. The wall of Silicon Central is not as tall as most, at a height of less than three meters. The novelty of this wall is that it’s made out of stone and up to a meter thick in some spots. Much of this stone was taken out of the Silicon Chasm to widen its entrance and allow for greater accessibility of the silicon sludge.

  Winston and I proceeded through the gate. To the right of the opening, I found the “Settlement Registry”: a computer terminal with information about the outpost, its inhabitants and stores, and also featured a communication device to each individual Autoclon’s abode. I was specifically looking to find information on my friend Constance.

  Ah, there you are Constance. Now I just hope you’re home today. With that, I opened up a communications line to Constance’s place.

  “Hello, who is this?”

  “Hi Constance, this is Fastidious.”

  “Fastidious! Wow, it must have been a couple of solar-cycles, huh? Are you here in Silicon Central?”

  “You bet. A friend and I are in town for a couple of days, and we were hoping to stay at your place. That is, if you don’t mind…”

  “Hey, no problem. Come on over.”

  “Sounds great. See you shortly!”

  Upon conclusion of our conversation, I looked up Constance’s address, Prime+2 Auxiliary-3, #5. With Constance’s place northwest of Auxiliary Street and southwest of Prime Street, this meant that Constance resided in the western quadrant of Silicon Central. In the waning light from Lazuli, Winston and I ventured into Silicon Central, traveling straight into the heart of the outpost on Prime Street. The street was wide and rather empty. We saw a few Autoclons coming toward us in the dim light as they were making their way back from the Chasm for the night.

  “Who is Con-stance?” Winston spoke up.

  “Ah, yes, I guess I should fill you in,” I said as we motored along Prime Street. “Constance is a Fabricator that I’ve known for most of my life. It was created at around the same time as my Progenitor, Inquisitous, and they knew each other when they were young. Constance has also helped me with some tinkering that I’ve done from time to time in the realm of Fabrication. If my databanks are correct, Constance is one of the Autoclons working at the main sludge processor in town.”

  “Do you think Con-stance will join us?”

  “I sure hope so. We could use Constance’s help.” As I finished, we found the Auxiliary-3 Street and turned right for a couple of blocks to find Prime+2. Once there, we located housing unit #5. We couldn’t see much at that hour, but #5 appeared to be both new and larger than the other domiciles on the block. I pressed the Entry Request button on Constance’s door. After a few seconds, the door opened with my friend Constance on the other side.

  Constance had changed very little from when I had last seen it. Constance was a “tripod
”: an Autoclon with two oversized front wheels and a smaller rear wheel used to aid in stability and giving direction to its movements. It was taller than me by a good 15 cm and in surprisingly good condition for an Autoclon over 20 solar-cycles old.

  “Come in, come in. Don’t just stand there in the dark.” Constance implored, and we obeyed. The interior of the abode was roomier than I had anticipated. Near the front of the building was a ramp up to a partial second level with a power station where Constance would go for hibernation. Constance had set up a workshop in the back of the main level with many parts and tools out on the countertop. The main room where we were presently located featured several designs of projects that Constance had worked on (or was planning on working on).

  “Hey, that’s a real cute bot you have there. I haven’t seen a pet like that before.”

  “No, I’m guessing you haven’t,” I answered. “Its name is Winston.”

  “Where did you get it? You couldn’t have made it, could you?”

  “No, no. I… won it in a contest from the Deep-Well Mines Association.”

  “Ha, ha, you’re still a terrible liar. You must have gotten that trait from Inquisitous. It could never lie without me figuring it out,” Constance added. “You don’t need to tell me how you acquired Winston. I was just curious as to who could have created such a sophisticated piece of technology. I guess that’s just the Fabricator in me talking.

  “Speaking of your Pro… I’m so sorry to hear about Inquisitous. It was way too young to die. Hopefully your Pro didn’t suffer long.”

  My thoughts drifted back to that fateful day. We were working together: Inquisitous would drill, and I would remove the copper-rich ore and transport it back to the processing center. While I was exiting the tunnel with a full cart, Inquisitous drilled too deep…

  “Yeah, it’s been tough without Inquisitous. My Pro was terminated almost instantly. I’m glad that Inquisitous’s death wasn’t lengthy. But that meant I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”

 

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