Saturday March 1, 2003

Day’s Events:

•     Completed Income Tax

•     Attempted to contact persons who have outstanding debts

•     Repaired someone’s computer

The Dreams:

    Someone had been hurt.

    That was my first impression as I saw the lack of motion and heard the massive air compressors shut down, voices rising above the thrums.  Standing on my forklift, I watched as a number of people rushed towards the fallen.  However, being on a tight schedule, I never left my post.

    Instead I continued to operate my Class II lift to move skids of stock accordingly.  With the work stoppage, I certainly had time to catch up, but with the number of people milling about, movement would become more difficult, and caution would have to be exercised.  For what seemed like hours, I was moving skids from their original stock shelves to the floor beside the Harris machines, waiting for the operators to rally their crews and continue to work.  Indeed someone had been hurt, but we were on a schedule.  Why should fifty people watch the actions of two to save one?

    Work had to be done.

    Moving from the warehouse to the Harris dozens of times with skids of stock I watched as people walked slowly, avoiding their assigned tasks as though this seizure of operations was acceptable.  Making my way past a group of people speaking in hushed tones I learned that it was my superior that had been hit, leaving me in charge of the entire department and its’ three shifts, instead of just my own.  This new assignment was precisely what I was waiting for, a new set of responsibilities and tasks that would show to all those around me that I was far more capable at my work than most, and far more suited than the lax AM Supervisor.

    “Have faith in the Lord,” someone said.  Probably to one of the people that took the injury far worse than was required.  I had never understood why some take another’s injury so personally, as though it had happened to them.  Indeed empathy was part of being human, yet to be so concerned for someone who knew the risks of the work and failed to protect himself from events that need not have happened?  It was deplorable.  We had work to do.

    My extended shift ended, I was asked to come in early the next day, I agreed.  It was now my responsibility to pick up the torch where another had let it fall.  I would not fail.

    Making my way home through mounds of blinding white snow, I heard someone call for help.  A young woman’s voice that sounded weak as though the call for help had been going on for some time.  The top of the snow was covered by a layer of ice from the freezing rain that had come down that morning, making shortcuts through farmer’s fields that much easier.  The voice was coming from one of these fields.

    I walk across the solid-topped snow towards the call, while also asking the unknown victim to continue talking.  Behind me is an robot I had designed while still in Technical School, following to offer what assistance it could, as it had been programmed.

    I look at the device and smile, designed to look as human as possible, this unit walked upright and wore standard clothing to “blend in” while in crowds.  This was an object I had put several hundreds of hours into design and programming, yet I could not remember actually building the unit.  The school assignment had been for robotics design and program, not actual construction.  Yet, here it was, aiding me in my quest for an unknown woman’s call for help.

     Ahead of me are areas of the snow that looked as though someone or something had fallen through the ice.  Holes that dropped eight to ten feet straight down, bringing with them whatever may have tread on the weak ice above.  Treading slowly around these dangers I hear the ice beneath start to crack, and before I can drop horizontally to distribute my weight better, I fall through, catching myself before I plummet to the bottom.

    Seeing I was struggling to get out of the crystallized cave, my robot lifted me easily out of the hole, and set me on the solid ice.

    The girl’s voice called out again.  She had heard the ice crack and though I had fallen much like her.  I answer back and start for her location once more, even more cautious of the temperamental ground.

    After two more falling incidents, I had made it to the natural prison for the woman.  Looking down to see if she was injured, I recognize her, but cannot recall her name.  She had been in several dreams with me years before.

    Small, she must have been no more than 14 years of age with brown hair cut shoulder length.  Her face was mildly oriental, and her skin a light golden-brown.  I knew her from somewhere … but not here.  She had never come to this side of the country.  I had known her from about the same time the robot “N-D183” was designed, yet had never gone to school with her.

    Seeing me, she started to cry, pointing down to her twisted leg.  She couldn’t get up, nor save herself.

    Quickly scanning the area around me, I noticed that the sun was beginning to grow warm, which would only make this field more trecharous as the ice began to melt leaving only mounds of snow too deep to walk through.  It was time for action.

    Making my way down the slippery enterance, I reached the fallen victim and started to lift her delicate body.  The heavy winter coat and boots doing little to add to her weight, she was easily lifted into my arms where I could then bring her to the enterance and have my assistant lift her to safety.

    As I started towards the exit, I slipped on the snow that had been under the girl.  Apparently, she had been laying long enough that the snow had partially melted and solidified into ice.  I fell, while attempting to cushion the fall of the frightened child in my arms.  Landing hard, I found that I could no longer walk.  I too had damaged my ankle.

    With the sound of ice melting and cracking all around us, I asked D183 to come down and help us.  With his mechanized body, he would be able to bring both of us out safely.  Something I should have thought about before venturing into the pit myself.  The machine obediently entered the natural prison and lifted us both easily.  The girl did not look surprised by the fact that a machine shaped as a human was traveling with me, in fact, she looked as though she had recognized the inhuman abomination.

    Leaping through the break as though it were a mere step on a ladder, D183 brought us both out to the surface, where we where greeted with what appeared to be a river of ice and water all around us, flowing away from the road to civilization towards the dark patch of forest near the horizon.  Sensing the severity of the situation, the machine started running for the road, leaping from ice sheet to ice sheet like a game of hop-scotch.  After just a few seconds, we had reached the safety of the sidewalk and were put down, our legs oddly completely healed; both the girl and I were able to stand on our own without support.

    As I checked on the woman to make sure she was unhurt from the trial, D183 fell to the ground, dark smoke coming from beneath its’ clothes.  The unit had burned itself out carrying both the girl and I to safety, over-riding its’ own protocols to ensure no harm came to those in his charge.

    Shutting the unit down with a gentle flip of a switch on his neck, I stood and walked the girl towards the town.

At this point I wake up.