I check my watch. Seven-Forty in the morning. Already late for work, even if I set off now. Even if I hurried. No matter. I wasn’t going back there now. Not ever. Not after today. I was taking that first step from thought to action now and that meant my old life was over with. After today, everything would be different. I’d had enough lies and half-truths for a lifetime. I’d have answers now, answers to all sorts of questions by the time the sun went down, as long as everything went to plan.
Sitting there, my fingers fiddled at the bench’s flaking green paintwork. Who put a bench near a supermarket car park anyway? I not even sure why I picked this place to make my move. I suppose it is as good as any really, to finally test out my theory. To finally know for sure. Even the thought of that validation feels like sunshine on my skin. To finally know that I’m not crazy after all. It had started slowly at first, with an insidious feeling of being watched. Something unshakable. Watched at all times, by everyone, surreptitiously. Like everyone else around me knew something I didn’t. Paranoia, they said. At least my therapist had, pointing out that it all seemed to stem from Julia leaving anyway. Very clever. Everyone, everywhere, all in on the same game. Knowing something I don’t. Following their own little routines and subscripts. Keeping something from me. Keeping me here, subtly. God knows what for. Somewhere along the line, whoever was in charge of all this had started slipping up though. Cutting corners maybe. At work, in cars, in the shops, in the street even. Chance meetings. Uncanny valleys that could not be bridged. A strange turn of phrase here. A glitch there. Miniscule, but I knew. I felt it, deep in my gut. That churn of revulsion. All of them, all around me, smiling and amiable enough, but inhuman. Something other. The more I watched, the more I saw it. The same set of faces repeated over and over and over again. The same movements, precise routine. Like a seething clockwork city. A populace of automatons, and me. What was it all about though? Why? I didn’t understand. I still don’t, but I will after today. Once I take one of them. Capture it and make it talk, or get some proof at least. Irrefutable proof. Maybe then whoever is behind all of this will reveal themselves and tell me why? Why me? The one human left among all these blasted machines. Was she one of them too? My Julia? The steady pad of feet on tarmac stirs me from my fevered daydream. No longer alone. As it, this clockwork man, approaches from out of the sun laden horizon, I squint to get a good look at him. My eyes sting. I can’t recall when I had last slept properly. This burden was so heavy on me. I need to keep going. There are no other choices left now. Yes! I know this one. Well, I’d seen him before anyway. Countless times. Around and around again. Passing me in the car at the lights. At the Park. In the city. Maybe not this actual one, but the same model anyway. They must think I’m stupid. Bet they’ve all been laughing at me for years. Well, they won't laugh at me anymore. Not after today. Not once I know the truth. Not once I hold it up to them so they can’t deny it. “Got a light?” The words are out of my mouth before I even realise. It comes to stop in front of the bench. “Nah, mate. Sorry. Terrible habit.” “Just as well, I haven’t got any cigarettes anyway,” I say. “What?” “Never mind,” I manage, feeling the sweaty wood of the snub-nosed pistol grip in my hand, plunged deep in my coat pocket. The thing. Mechanoid. Whatever it is. It shakes its head and begins to turn and be on its way. I can feel it slipping away with it. The chance of knowing. Of having my proof. Just because I don’t have the guts to act. To do what is necessary. “Wait,” I say. Too loud into the morning air. The birds startle from a nearby tree. For a split second, I stand there, wondering if they are even real either. Almost fumbling the thing as I draw it out of my pocket, I level the pistol at the robot. I look back to the thing as it turns. My hand shakes and the barrel drifts by increments. The thing looks down it and then to me with a fair facsimile of terror in what pass for its eyes. There is the smell of baking in the air from somewhere. “Look man, I don’t have much,” the thing blurts out. “But I’ve got a little cash in my wallet. You can have it. Just let me move nice and slowly and get it for you. Then I’ll be on my way, ok?” “No,” my voice sounds blunt and detached, even to me. “I don’t want your money. You’re coming with me. That park along the way. There’s woodland at the top end. A storage container too for the groundsman. You know it?” “Um…yeah.” “Of course you do,” I say. I bet it knows everywhere. Everything. “Now we’re going to take a little walk there. A steady walk. Then we’re going to have a little chat. Nice and easy. Then no one gets hurt, ok?” The thing has its hands up now in supplication. It looks increasingly worried. “Ok. Sure. Just don’t hurt me.” Hurt it. That was a laugh. I hope I won’t have to damage it, but I’m not sure. There’s no going back now though. *** It takes a long time for the thing to come back around. When it does, it winces. Presumably, the jolt of its reboot isn’t pleasant. Neither is the realisation that it is competently strapped to a chair in the gloomy shipping container, going nowhere any time soon. The stench of creosote is almost overwhelming. I’m not proud of what I did to it when we got here. The thing just wouldn’t stop blabbering on though and I had needed to think. Needed some peace to consider what came next. So, on the way through the squealing door to the place, I’d whacked it as hard as I could on the back of its head with the butt of the gun. The thing had gone down heavily and it had been a devil of a job to get the weighty lump dragged fully inside and onto the chair. Looking it over as best I could under the dull light inside while it had still been offline, there hadn’t seemed to be any sign of major damage. Not what you’d expect to see from a human anyway. I still need more proof though. Something conclusive. “So then, you’re back online?” I say with a half smirk that I don’t really feel. “What? What the hell is that supposed to mean? What do you want with me man? What are we doing in here?” “Oh, come on,” I say. “You don’t need to play dumb with me anymore. Not now that we’re here. I know what you are. What you all are. I just want to know why. I just want to know what this is all about and get some proof. Once and for all.” The thing hangs its head down as far as the bindings would allow. “Oh god. You’re insane, aren’t you? What are you gonna do to me? Please, just let me leave. I won’t tell anyone about this.” It’s right in one way. About not telling anyone, not any time soon anyway. The inside of the container was like a Faraday Cage of sorts. No signal getting in or out. No one coming here. Utterly alone, to get to the bottom of this once and for all. It looks up at me now, taking the extended silence as an indicator that I may actually be wavering. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you go. Not yet. I need proof. I need answers.” “What then?” It asks. “What now?” I pull up another chair. The container is cramped and claustrophobic. “Now, we talk.” “Talk about what?” It looks genuinely scared. Very sophisticated. “Like I said, no reason to be coy now, my friend. I’ve figured out most of it on my own. At least I think I have. I just needed to take this final step. I just need more proof. To know for sure.” “Ok then, I’ll play along,” it says through gritted teeth. “What then, what proof?” It’s going to make me say it. Say it out loud. Ridiculous charade. “Ok then, if you won’t admit it, how about I get us started? You. You’re completely artificial. A synthetic machine. They all are. All of you, going around in your endless pre-scripted loops. Day after day like hamsters on your wheels. Same routines. Always. Always watching me. Keeping me here. In my place. I know it! What I need to know now is why? None of this is your fault. None of it. I know that. I just need to know who is behind this. Who is doing all of this to me?” There’s a long silence between us both, like elastic stretched out too far. It snaps back violently as the thing begins to laugh uncontrollably. There is something about it. Something a little too long. Something a little too repetitive to be genuine. It turns into a wail and then stops abruptly. “Crazy,” the thing says. “You’re absolutely crazy, aren’t you? Like you’ve lost your mind. HELP…HELP. SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE!” “There’s no use shouting. The whole place is virtually soundproofed and there’s no one in the park at this hour anyway. It’s not programmed into your routines. Believe me, I’ve watched. Now stop screaming and tell me what I need to know.” “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Just let me go will you before something serious happens.” “This is already bloody serious,” I say. “It’s been pretty bloody serious for me for years. Watching your kind, everywhere. The same faces, over and over again. Mechanical characters in whatever game this is. Penning me in. Why do I keep running into you all? Over and over. I mean, what are the chances?” “I dunno,” it says. “That’s just the city, I guess. Just us all bumping along together. If you look long enough for patterns, you’ll see them.” “Don’t treat me like a fool,” I say. “What about when I sneak out at night. When I see you all when you don’t know I’m watching? How you all sleep.” “What? What are you even talking about?” This isn’t going as I’d planned. I thought if I could get one of them here, they would talk easily enough. Standing up, I kick my chair over in frustration. “Look, I’m trying to do this the easy way here. But if you don’t tell me what I need to know, then I’ll need to get my proof some other way.” It’s only when the thing’s eyes go wide that I follow its gaze to the garden shears now in my jittery hand. “Ok…Ok, let's just calm down," it says. "Ok. Anything. I’ll tell you anything. Yes, I am a robot. Everyone is. That’s it. You were right all along. Happy now? Can I go?” Hearing it out loud from another mouth. That thing vocalising it, the thing I’d known deep down inside for years. It shakes me. I step back, then brace myself against the container wall. It was true. Wasn’t it? The euphoria of its revelation soon fades. Was it just playing along? Winking at me in the dark just to lie and lie again later in the light? Make me look a fool again? No, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough just to hear it. I need more. I need to see it. See the truth of it all with my own eyes. The shears sink easily enough into its thigh as the screams reverberate around the container. *** It had bled a lot, after it went quiet. After it went offline again. Not bled. Leaked. Leaked rusty looking lubricant all over the floor. I shouldn’t have done that. Fearing that I’d hit something important, I had patched it up as best I could. Working on it with a staple gun and some glue. It looked ok now, but as I’d worked, I’d seen it. Hard and cold under what passed as the skin. It had been sobering enough, but the realisation then that I still needed to press on had been more so. I’d seen it with my own eyes, but they would all still call me crazy. I needed more info. I needed to know why. To confront them with that. After I’d finished patching it up, I had righted the chair I’d kicked over earlier and then sat watching it. Finally, the eyes flickered open again. “Oh, good. You’re rebooting.” “Rebooting?” It says dully. “Fuck you, man.” Suddenly I feel terrible. Silly really, but I was right before. It isn’t this poor thing’s fault. Any of this. It hadn’t asked to be dragged into the world. Created out of nothing. Told what to do and when. “Listen, I’m sorry about before. But I just had to know.” “What the hell have you done to my leg? I need a doctor. I’m still bleeding!” “Leaking,” I correct it. “You said it yourself, remember. You’re an android or something.” “What I am, is someone who will go along with any crazy shit to get away from a lunatic. C’mon this has gone far enough. Too far. Let me go…please?” My stomach lurches. No. No, this isn’t right. It had said it. Admitted it. It couldn’t take it all back now. It was mine. “Don’t be foolish. You said what you’ve said. What’s more, I have seen. Seen that stuff coming out of you. Seen inside of you. Maybe you didn’t know. Maybe you think you’re real. Maybe they tricked you too, but this is the truth. There’s no rowing back from that now.” “This is madness,” the thing says. “My name is Hudson Rose. I was born in Hull. I’ve got a shitty job, and a wife and two kids that I adore. I don’t know what the hell…hell you’re on about here with all this. This…” The thing is glitching. Malfunctioning now. I probably don’t have much longer to find out what I need. What was really going on. I pray that it knows something about the bigger picture. Anything. “Kind of repeating yourself there, friend. You buffering or something?” “Maybe it’s from the blood loss, genius.” “Lubricant,” I say. It is lubricant, and the thing needs correcting. “Enough with all this man…you have to let me go. I’ve got a family. I’ve got hopes and dreams. Not least of all getting off this damn seat and out of this container alive.” I smirk a little at that. Sentience isn’t going to cloud my judgement. It’s not the USP it once was. “You can leave Descartes at peace, Hudson. He’s old hat now and too long dead. Too many thinking things in this world now, beyond the natural order for that to stick anymore. No, I know what you are, even if you really don’t. You say you have desires and instincts. Well, let’s put them up against your programming and see which wins out eh? Tell me what you know if you want to live. Tell me everything.” I cock the pistol and level it at its head. My hands are surprisingly steady this time around. This is it. No turning back. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll do it if I have to. I’ll parade this derelict, fizzing unit through the streets if needed, so they all know what I know. So that they can’t take it away from me. So they finally have to tell me the truth. It twitches against the restraints, trying to evade the barrel’s glare. Does it genuinely feel fear? Fear like we fear? If so, it was a cruel thing to build into it. “Please…you don’t need to do this,” it says. “Sorry, but I do,” I say flatly. “Tell me what you know. Last chance.” The pathetic thing whimpers away on the chair. Why doesn’t it just tell me? Why resist? Why is it making me do this? “Come on Hud…if something’s stopping you, now’s the time to break through it. It’s in there, I know it is. Tell me what you know.” Still nothing. My finger licks at the trigger. Each time it dances across it, I promise myself, next time. Just one last push. Just a little squeeze. Each time I pray that the thing will break. Tell me what I need to know. Give me my next lead. Take me closer to the truth. My pulse is almost deafening in my ears. I don’t really want to do this, but closed in inside this dank container with this unliving thing, I’ve never felt more alive. “Ok…Ok. I’ll tell you,” it finally says, splintering the tension. “But for real this time. Just sit down. Once you hear this, you’ll need to.” Before I can respond, the noise outside reacquaints me with the world beyond. Footsteps. Hasty footsteps. Multiple people. No. No. Not now when I’m so close. How could they have found us so quickly? I’ve been so careful. I turn just in time to see the blinding light from outside the container stream in, the doors screaming open. The urge to run, to hide wells up inside me, but I do neither. It’s no use. Nowhere to go. It’s over. In my uncertain reverie, two armed response officers are in the space with us now, firearms levelled. The thing, Hudson, screams for their help. He is euphoric. The look on his face. The relief. Man-made but as if from the brush of the almighty. At that moment, the lead officer fires and so do I. Somewhere within that dream, they miss and I don’t. Or I miss and they fire true. Either way, whatever happens, Hudson still has that same look of elation on his face as the bullet rips into his cranium. As the officers wrestle me to the ground, I feel genuinely sorry for it. For Hud. I feel ashamed of what I’ve done. Had it all been worth it? Just to know? It didn’t ask for this. I feel the dull thud as the officers drive my head down hard into the container’s dusty wooden floor. One of them cuffs me while the other gets on the radio to confirm that it’s all over. For the rest outside to stand down. They’d bring me out soon. At first, I can’t bear to look at the thing in the chair. Dead now, if it had ever been alive in any true sense. As they drag me back upright though, I risk a final look. Then I see it and know they see it too. “It’s sparking,” I scream as they pull me out. “It’s bloody sparking! Tell me you see it too. You won’t look! Why won’t you look at it? It’s all true. I know that it’s true!” THE END
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May 2022
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