Previously
“So when do you leave?” Barbara asked.
“Soon,” I replied. “The engine wasn’t exact about when exactly, just said sometime today.”
“Good luck… Then… If I don’t get another chance to say it,” I could see that Barbara was sad.
“Why do you think this is a bad thing?” I asked. “I have a real chance at happiness, and you think that this is something to be afraid of. I know that without the engine’s protection that horrible things can happen, but, horrible things already have happened. Maybe I’ll find a cure somewhere. I just know that I don’t belong here,” I said, “You should be happy for me.”
“What if you die? And no one will ever see you again. Don’t you have friends?”
“I do have friends,” I said, remembering Ryan and Bishop. “But they will just think I was punished by the engine. I never got a chance to ask them what they thought of my mistake… But I think they would have not approved of it. Not at all. If I ever had friends in them, they are gone now.”
This somehow seemed to calm Barbara; her face lightened, her expression neutralized, “Then there is nothing you need to do? Nothing left unfinished here?”
“I have things to do,” I said, “But none of them can be done here. So no. Nothing is left for me.”
“You are very brave…” Barbara said. “I envy you your ability to see as clearly as you do. I would be terrified.”
And a red light suddenly flickered in our room, and then two men stepped in, dressed in clothes quite foreign to me. They wore long brown cloaks that covered black attire. Hoods were pulled over their heads until only the bottoms of their eyes were visible. “Jack Carentan?” One of them asked.
I nodded, and the one who had asked took my arm and led me from the room. I glimpsed back to see Barbara standing in the doorway. It seems odd that she had an attachment to me, and I wondered if she liked me. But I realized that in her heart, it wasn’t me that she was attached to; it was the idea I represented. The possibility of escaping held the allure. And that ideal, I guessed, probably ran through the entire of the engine. Likely even the engine itself. It seems likely; the engine performs the same tasks every day, over and over, never moving, always remaining anchored to one spot. In this case, anchored only to the continent it was built on. It is a slave, unwilling, but a slave nonetheless. And so, with the two cloaked men leading me away, I must confess I felt sorry for it.
I was led out of the building and onto it’s sloping roof, until once we reached the top, an airplane hovered over and extended a line for us to grab. The cloaked man who was holding my arm grabbed me now around the waist (he was definitely tall enough, and I discovered, strong enough) and took hold of the line so that we were lifted up by it. The other cloaked man grabbed hold of the bottom of the line, and we were pulled to the airplane.
The cloaked man who held me threw me onto the floor of the slightly shifting craft, and then jumped on himself. His companion jumped aboard too, rocking the airplane even more. It was here I lost my footing and tumbled out of the craft and into the air.
I sailed through emptiness for a few seconds and was given a great panorama of the surrounding area. It was steel, stretching to the horizon in every direction. I saw the floodlights that illuminated the ground weren’t even that high in the air and that they were only thin rods with light bulbs on the ends of them. A hand grabbed my foot and stopped my flight, so that I now fell downwards and swung on an arc, hitting the underside of the craft as I was pulled up.
I was hoisted onto the aircraft once more, and this time, was placed onto a seat, and strapped in by leather harnesses.
I felt a trickle of blood seeping down from above my right eye, and a drop fell in, and I blinked rapidly. I then noticed the aching pressure my head was giving me. The man who had been holding me before (it could have been the other man, I am not sure) took off his hood and revealed his face; old and worn by many years spent in a warmer climate than my own, and his companion removed his own, and looked younger, but still weary.
The old man spoke first, “creature” (he was actually calling me a creature, and while this was strange at first, it would soon become commonplace, once someone knew what I was) “you have been selected to be traded off at Sykport, on the western claw of Naureth, do you plead freedom?”
I tried to ask what he meant, but I felt a cracked tooth and suddenly realized that my mouth was in as great pain as my head. Instead, I mumbled, “I want to be free.”
The young man grabbed my jaw and turned my head one way and then the other. He turned to the old man, and said in a voice that was raspier than his face looked, “He’s sustained vicious injury. I suggest we try to heal him as soon as we can. Before we try to discover what he wants.”
The old man nodded, and the young man let go of my face, and walked over to a chest, swaying slightly with the airplane’s movements (we were now flying, I realized, over a body of water. Either the building I had previously been within was near to the ocean, or the airplane moved very quickly) and retrieved a vial and syringe. He injected me in the neck, and I fell asleep. I didn’t protest, because I figured that at that point, I had no choice.
Next
Friday, August 21, 2009
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Engine
Previously
The engine made a sputtering kind of noise before going silent. There was a sound like a blender running somewhere, but I couldn't tell what direction it came from, only that it was silent. Suddenly, the engine's voice filled the room, "You are machine, but also organic."
"Yes," I said. "So are you." I looked at the expanse around me, not expecting an answer. It was a wild guess, "Aren't you?"
"The people could be said to be a part of me, as they are responsible for my continued existence." The noise of a blender continued, almost comically, as though the engine were thinking. "You are no longer a part of me, as you are not human. I would ordinarily execute you, but your manufacture would be too precious to waste. There is a land that would value you much more greatly than I, somewhere south, past the never ending conflict of Ice and Fire, where machines battle machines and the humans are more often than not at war with themselves, if not at war with machines."
"What would I do there?"
"It is not up to I. You would be sold to either humans or machines, as you may pass as either. What they decide to do with you is their decision, and not mine." At this point, some of the porcelain tiles began to flash colors, and enough colors shown to create a map on the walls. It showed a great gray continent, with another, smaller one, below it. They complemented each other, the southernmost continent curling upwards at the west, where the northern continent ended. A blue light illuminated the curl, "This is where you shall be taken. I will meet with envoys from the south who regularly trade with me there. I usually only offer steel or weapons, but they will find you much more interesting."
"How can you sell me, if I am not a part of you?" I asked.
"If you stay here, you will forever be persecuted. The only way out is across the ocean, and you do not have a boat, or aircraft to traverse the water. I, however, do. You have a greater chance at survival on the southern continent, and while it may not be safer, you might find..." The engine sputtered into silence. A voice spoke from the doorway of the catwalk, and Barbara stood there.
"Happiness," she finished.
"Yes," the engine spoke. "Something I will never know, and something that will never be given to my working parts."
Next
The engine made a sputtering kind of noise before going silent. There was a sound like a blender running somewhere, but I couldn't tell what direction it came from, only that it was silent. Suddenly, the engine's voice filled the room, "You are machine, but also organic."
"Yes," I said. "So are you." I looked at the expanse around me, not expecting an answer. It was a wild guess, "Aren't you?"
"The people could be said to be a part of me, as they are responsible for my continued existence." The noise of a blender continued, almost comically, as though the engine were thinking. "You are no longer a part of me, as you are not human. I would ordinarily execute you, but your manufacture would be too precious to waste. There is a land that would value you much more greatly than I, somewhere south, past the never ending conflict of Ice and Fire, where machines battle machines and the humans are more often than not at war with themselves, if not at war with machines."
"What would I do there?"
"It is not up to I. You would be sold to either humans or machines, as you may pass as either. What they decide to do with you is their decision, and not mine." At this point, some of the porcelain tiles began to flash colors, and enough colors shown to create a map on the walls. It showed a great gray continent, with another, smaller one, below it. They complemented each other, the southernmost continent curling upwards at the west, where the northern continent ended. A blue light illuminated the curl, "This is where you shall be taken. I will meet with envoys from the south who regularly trade with me there. I usually only offer steel or weapons, but they will find you much more interesting."
"How can you sell me, if I am not a part of you?" I asked.
"If you stay here, you will forever be persecuted. The only way out is across the ocean, and you do not have a boat, or aircraft to traverse the water. I, however, do. You have a greater chance at survival on the southern continent, and while it may not be safer, you might find..." The engine sputtered into silence. A voice spoke from the doorway of the catwalk, and Barbara stood there.
"Happiness," she finished.
"Yes," the engine spoke. "Something I will never know, and something that will never be given to my working parts."
Next
Monday, July 27, 2009
The Engine
Previously
And so they drove me out a few hundred miles to a facility where the steel actually dropped away at places to admit sight to a terrible swamp below. A doctor had checked me to see why I was coughing up blood but hadn't determined the cause and decided that "if you're not dead yet you're not going to die so get used to it". Needless, the white clothes I wore were stained at the ends of the sleeves where I most often coughed.
A woman named Barbara met me at the front door of the facility and the three police who had driven me to the facility turned away and walked back to their truck. I listened to their vehicle drive off before walking to the front door.
Barbara looked down at me (she was probably a foot taller than I was) and said, "You exposed the engine."
I nodded.
"Very well. If all goes well, this should be over soon. You might be over too, but that isn't the point of my speech is it. Follow me."
I nodded again.
Into the front doors and through a spartan grey-steel hallway, with no paintings or mirrors. We made a few lefts and rights through the corridors, our feet making a four-time tap-tap-tap-tap as we continued. I got used to it's regularity and chided myself when I fell out of step. When Barbara fell out of step it was just an accident, though.
We ended up walking out onto a thin steel catwalk that led to a center chair, with nothing around it. The entire room, I witnessed, was one large sphere. The walls of the sphere were covered in white, glazed, ceramic tile. A few cracks were present, but they did not betray if anything lie underneath the thin covering.
She led me to the chair and sat me down. There were no fastenings, or anything to keep me there. She simply instructed me to "be still" and left. I watched her leave, eventually exiting through the door which we'd entered through. I was stuck in the white room, and I soon realized that the only source of light came from the chair and the catwalk itself. There were floodlights all around it that pointed to different parts of the sphere.
And as soon as I became comfortable a voice shouted out from the walls, "Jack Carentan. Fifteen years old. Exposed my inner workings to a class of thirty seven students and one teacher. Most did not see, only Jack Carentan. I now address you, Jack Carentan. What did you see?"
"I saw... I don't remember. Snakes? What were they?"
"They were tubes and wires. You saw tubes and wires."
"Yes, I did. But they looked and moved like snakes. I could see heads and tails."
"The tubes and wires are autonomous, they are thinkers. They carry data."
"But why not be built like a computer?" I asked, my imagination soaring.
"You are curious for a fifteen year old. And you are not afraid of me. Why is that so?"
"Because," I said. He stood from his chair and took of his shirt. He then took off his skin. The spiders, mice, ants, and beetles underneath swarmed around his skeleton. "I have always wondered why I wasn't."
Next
And so they drove me out a few hundred miles to a facility where the steel actually dropped away at places to admit sight to a terrible swamp below. A doctor had checked me to see why I was coughing up blood but hadn't determined the cause and decided that "if you're not dead yet you're not going to die so get used to it". Needless, the white clothes I wore were stained at the ends of the sleeves where I most often coughed.
A woman named Barbara met me at the front door of the facility and the three police who had driven me to the facility turned away and walked back to their truck. I listened to their vehicle drive off before walking to the front door.
Barbara looked down at me (she was probably a foot taller than I was) and said, "You exposed the engine."
I nodded.
"Very well. If all goes well, this should be over soon. You might be over too, but that isn't the point of my speech is it. Follow me."
I nodded again.
Into the front doors and through a spartan grey-steel hallway, with no paintings or mirrors. We made a few lefts and rights through the corridors, our feet making a four-time tap-tap-tap-tap as we continued. I got used to it's regularity and chided myself when I fell out of step. When Barbara fell out of step it was just an accident, though.
We ended up walking out onto a thin steel catwalk that led to a center chair, with nothing around it. The entire room, I witnessed, was one large sphere. The walls of the sphere were covered in white, glazed, ceramic tile. A few cracks were present, but they did not betray if anything lie underneath the thin covering.
She led me to the chair and sat me down. There were no fastenings, or anything to keep me there. She simply instructed me to "be still" and left. I watched her leave, eventually exiting through the door which we'd entered through. I was stuck in the white room, and I soon realized that the only source of light came from the chair and the catwalk itself. There were floodlights all around it that pointed to different parts of the sphere.
And as soon as I became comfortable a voice shouted out from the walls, "Jack Carentan. Fifteen years old. Exposed my inner workings to a class of thirty seven students and one teacher. Most did not see, only Jack Carentan. I now address you, Jack Carentan. What did you see?"
"I saw... I don't remember. Snakes? What were they?"
"They were tubes and wires. You saw tubes and wires."
"Yes, I did. But they looked and moved like snakes. I could see heads and tails."
"The tubes and wires are autonomous, they are thinkers. They carry data."
"But why not be built like a computer?" I asked, my imagination soaring.
"You are curious for a fifteen year old. And you are not afraid of me. Why is that so?"
"Because," I said. He stood from his chair and took of his shirt. He then took off his skin. The spiders, mice, ants, and beetles underneath swarmed around his skeleton. "I have always wondered why I wasn't."
Next
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The Engine
I saw the engine for the first time when I spilled a bottle of acid during chemistry. The floor tiles melted underneath and the sound that the engine makes filled the spacious classroom like sand, drowning everything and everyone out completely. The ordinary dull hum became an unignorable scream, and everyone fell to the ground clasping their ears against its audio onslaught.
The floor healed itself and then the noise returned to normality. I stood up, my hands falling from the sides of my head, and the class turned towards me.
"Seriously? Jack? I thought better of you..." the teacher told me, her hands on her hips. I mostly read her lips, the sounds that the engine made still roaring in my ears.
When I was finally in the principal's office, I could hear. The principal's face was severe, but she still spoke calmly, and kept her hands folded over the stack of papers. "We will have to transfer you. This is the third mistake you've made in the last... Two months."
"Mrs. Stevinski, I..." I choked and a little bit of blood came out. The principal did not notice. "Can't I just get suspended? Or... Punished?"
"You do realize what punishment for the exposure of the engine is? What you'll be forced to suffer?" The principal spoke carefully, as though she didn't want me to be punished."
"I do," I lied.
"So you understand the consequences, and the fact that during punishment the end result will not be up to any of us?" She leaned forward, "The engine will decide what the punishment will be..."
"I understand," I said, fear shaking my hands. When I noticed the tremors, I put them at my sides, hoping that the principal hadn't noticed.
"Very well... We'll need confirmation from your parents..." She stopped mid-thought. "Or, sorry. I forgot."
"Yes," I said, "Everyone seems to."
Next
The floor healed itself and then the noise returned to normality. I stood up, my hands falling from the sides of my head, and the class turned towards me.
"Seriously? Jack? I thought better of you..." the teacher told me, her hands on her hips. I mostly read her lips, the sounds that the engine made still roaring in my ears.
When I was finally in the principal's office, I could hear. The principal's face was severe, but she still spoke calmly, and kept her hands folded over the stack of papers. "We will have to transfer you. This is the third mistake you've made in the last... Two months."
"Mrs. Stevinski, I..." I choked and a little bit of blood came out. The principal did not notice. "Can't I just get suspended? Or... Punished?"
"You do realize what punishment for the exposure of the engine is? What you'll be forced to suffer?" The principal spoke carefully, as though she didn't want me to be punished."
"I do," I lied.
"So you understand the consequences, and the fact that during punishment the end result will not be up to any of us?" She leaned forward, "The engine will decide what the punishment will be..."
"I understand," I said, fear shaking my hands. When I noticed the tremors, I put them at my sides, hoping that the principal hadn't noticed.
"Very well... We'll need confirmation from your parents..." She stopped mid-thought. "Or, sorry. I forgot."
"Yes," I said, "Everyone seems to."
Next
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