Beware the Voice From Within
The jets flew only a hundred feet above the massive skyscrapers. Isaac could see, hear, and feel the rain of shattered glass falling from the mountainous steel glaciers of man’s creations. A frantic crowd of people fleeing the battleground they once called home surrounded him during his escape. Some were smashing windows into stores and dumping watches, diamonds, clothing, food, whatever they could find to fill their pockets.
Everyone was running from the synthetics. They were blocking the exits of the city. There was no escape. There was no radio or TV report, no article in the newspaper. People were being killed and no one will ever know it happened.
Suddenly, as if catapulted back into reality, Isaac heard the gun shot from a policeman ten yards in front of him. Isaac jumped in the air to see a wall of armed synthetics raising their firearms in perfect unison.
An old man, previously struggling not to be trampled by the crowd, suddenly halted his advance and fell to the damp, black pavement.
Isaac pulled him up, barely avoiding be killed himself by his fellow fleeing countrymen. He dragged the old man to an empty street alley free from the chaos of the main streets. Isaac’s hands were colored scarlet, and the old man’s chest was soaked. He tried to nurse his wounds, but to no avail. Isaac took off the man’s hastily buttoned overcoat and undid his shirt. His heart had been punctured. The old man, as if realizing his own fate, sank his frightened body against the wall. As his eyes lost focus on Isaac’s face, the old man fell into the abyss.
The man’s death and Isaac’s sense of morality shoved him against the greasy wall. His hands moved to clear his face from it’s tears when he saw the blood on his hands. “I couldn’t have done anything! It was, wasn’t, wasn’t my fault.”
One singular tear fell into his cupped hands. The blood changed into a deep, piercing black poison that began to inch up Isaac’s arm. The blackness swallowed his limb entirely, then his chest, legs, neck, face, the foul smelling liquid reminded him of death when the blackness flooded into his mouth…
“-And this is KWGT radio sending you the latest on 104.5 Topping the headlines are the fiery responses to the passage of the 35th Amendment. It was passed last month to make the government’s response to foreign threats faster by fully automating the armed forces. Senator Xian believes that the Amendment could be the downfall of our constitution.
“In a related story, The European mega giant MGI has announced it’s plan for the production of a synthetic army for the United States. Finally, the US has joined thirty countries that have fully synthetic armies. The US is the first, however, in designing an international network so that our troops can coordinate with other allied armies in times of crisis in multi-national conflicts.”
Isaac had awakened in a pool of notes in the middle of his bedroom. The night before had been spent in a frenzy. After hearing of the passage, Isaac had wrecked anything he could place his hands on. Bookcases were lying flat on the floor and volumes of novels looked as though they had been blown like dead leaves in the wind. Not that it matters now. The world is over.
Isaac stood in the middle of his rage. The flame within had not subsided, it now glows with a color of it’s own. This world had dug its own grave. It was time for him to dig himself out. But, Isaac was the only sane man on this devastated world.
A gust of wind blew through his open window. Isaac saw the world outside. Positioning his head outside the windows, people walked in straight lines, Their faces had so much determination, yet if they only knew that their lives were manipulated by others…yet…they can’t know. They won’t know. People would refuse to accept that their own dependence on others. They were no longer human, but mindless drones. Each moved because that was how society wanted to move. They were out of reach. Isaac could not save them.
Opening his closet, Isaac took out his suitcase and the bare necessities with him. Walking out of his former home, Isaac did not look back.
He drove his old car to Sailor’s Wharf. Isaac walked along the deck with only his suitcase in hand. He stopped in front of a small white sailboat. It was a full eighteen feet long, nut only five feet wide. Shoving is suitcase in a hatch and untying the rope fixed on the dock, Isaac began to sail his boat into the Atlantic. There was no definite destination, anywhere but here was good enough for him. The misty air flowed into his nostrils as he admired the sparkling sea. The seawater smell had already consumed his pants, shirt, and mind.
Isaac’s eyes were fixated on the gentle currents of the surface which, ever so slowly, rocked the boat as if it were a cradle. But Isaac was no infant, he preferred to think that he had taken a vow to become a Nazirite. To give up the world and to discover himself and his beliefs.
At sunset, Isaac could see no land in any direction. The sun’s light danced on the water’s surface for Isaac. They moved to no rhythm, nor did they bother to restrain their joy. They had not danced for man in along, long, time.
When Isaac lay down in the boat to sleep, he could hear the faint sound of thunder in the sky. When Isaac’s eyes finally closed for sleep, a single raindrop touched his forehead.
“So you ran away, did you? Isaac, you are a spineless coward. Truly a disgrace to your family.”
The wooden chair groaned beneath Isaac as he squirmed from the onslaught of questions. His interrogator was dressed in a crisp, royal, black suit with silver buttons leading to a firmly pressed collar that circled a thin and sinewy neck. His lips had a habit of curling on the left hand side when he asked a devious question. His eyes were placed slightly further back in his head than normal, but quasi-crystal eye glasses made his gaze as sharp as a tiger’s claw.
“I did it for humanity!” Isaac’s voice echoed in the dark room. His eyes squinted under the solitary lamp of the desk in front of him.
“No! You did it for yourself. Their blood is on your hands.”
“Whose blood?” It was Isaac’s attempt to distract his verbal enemy.
Another wicked grin. His opponent pulled a remote from his pocket and turned a television on next to Isaac.
“You did the worst thing a human could do. You made a machine in the likeness of a man.
“You called them…(another wicked grin) Synthetics. You knew they were unstable and dangerous. Yet you sat back and enjoyed your new found wealth.” His last word was like the man had spat in Isaac’s face.
The TV began to show stock footage of synthetics going berserk and attacking their creators.
“Testing showed their penchant for bloodshed.”
“I had no idea how violent they were. I did not test them or watch them all the time-“
His enemy pulled out a small knife and threw it…right between Isaac’s legs. It snagged his pants to the seat. Isaac tried to stand from the chair, but his hands and feet were in shackles to the seat.
“Your pathetic remarks show how weak you are.”
The TV showed a production line at a library producing thousands, no hundreds of thousands of synthetics moving along a conveyor belt. One machine added heads, another eyes, hair, outer skin, all working together in a simple, perfect, flawless routine.
“One of your Marketing Directors said it best. ‘Soon our production line will be in every home, building, office, or park. They will work harder, faster, and more reliably than we ever dreamed. Atop our own pile of infinite wealth, we will stand and reign above all others on this world. This is not the Age of Machines; it is the Age of Kings. It is our time now.”
“What do you say to that, Isaac? Or should I call you King Isaac?”
Silence. Isaac felt the sting of defeat.
“When the synthetics rise up and slay their creators, where will you be?”
Isaac’s mouth opened, and he spat dirt out of his mouth.
…onto the sands of a beach. He lifted his head and tried to cough out the dirt in his mouth. The beach seemed to go on for miles in either direction. The white sanded beach reflected the fiery brilliance of the sun into Isaac’s eyes. His hand was pulsing with enough force to dizzy his eyesight. Oh the pain! His weakened body dragged itself to a tree’s shadow.
His lips were cracked with dehydration.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked himself. Then, as he began to piece together his memory, a much more disturbing question entered his mind.
“Am I insane?” Isaac shrugged his shoulders towards the sky and focused on survival. He stood up and emerged from the tree’s shadow. Isaac could see a very small obstruction that was washed ashore several miles to his right. As he ran to it, Isaac recognized the blur as his boat. Isaac jumped aboard and dragged his suitcase from the air-tight hatch. As he checked his clothes and food for any damage, an idea occurred to him. Isaac jumped aboard and turned on the battery powered radio in a plastic case.
“-the latest on 104.5 This is just in… we have received unconfirmed reports that riots have broken out against the Synthetic Martial Law. We urge everyone to stop…I can’t do this. Everyone, this is illegal! Fight against their synthetic armies! Don’t let them-“
“We are experiencing Technical Difficulties. Please be patient and wait for DJ Steve to return. Now, try some of Wagner Valkyries to kick off many prosperous years with our new leaders!”
The irony. Isaac tested the synthetics while playing Wagner’s most famous work. This proves his theory, machines do like classical music.
“I thought you might want to see this.” The Man in Black was back.
Isaac felt the restraints on him again as he watched the TV. It was the dream he had. The synthetics were firing at the crowd! Bodies began to pile on the streets until no one was left.
“Those people, those innocent men, women, and children are dead because of you. Similar scenes have repeated in every city of the Great United States of America! What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m …I’m sorry.” It felt weak, but he was sincere.
“
“Do you think that your
apologies will redeem you of your crimes?
If you do, then you are weaker than I thought.”
“No apology can fully redeem myself.”
“There is only one way. You can’t leave. Your death is the only redemption, and the only option left.”
The pain in his head screamed in agony!
Isaac screamed; he screamed at his pain, at the blood on his hands, at the Devil who taunted him at every moment.
Was death the only option?
Was this his fault?
Isaac was not power hungry. He did it to help people and save mankind. Why does every good thing I do hurt people when I want to help?
Am I insane?
After dusting off the sand from his clothes, Isaac further explored the island. After moving through a dense jungle, Isaac saw a majestic waterfall. The water fell over a hundred feet into a crystal clear lagoon. After drinking the water, Isaac climbed a side of the enormous earthen monument. After finding a dry spot on top, Isaac imagined his death falling into the shallow water and the jagged rocks.
Is there another way?
“No! You have trapped yourself inside your moral quandary. But there is only one way to free yourself from your shame. Jump!”
Isaacs had was engulfed in pain. His head radiated pain to every cell in his body.
“Every human of this world will be enslaved by your cursed machines! In a hundred years, humans will cease to exist. That is your gift to the world. You bring Apocalypse. Living a life on this island will insult the deaths of all those you killed! Every day on this Earth you live will make the people killed in the cities who stood up to your tyranny die without purpose. You are responsible. Thou shall not make a machine in the likeness of a man! Unless you redeem yourself you will be a treasonous coward who couldn’t stand up to his own creation!”
Isaac stood on top of the waterfall. He reached one foot out, and stepped off. Before Isaac could reach the ground, his head hemorrhaged. The back of his head burst in a cloud of blood.
Soaking every sheet of paper in his apartment.