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Gardener of Destruction

Even after being reset, can humanity save it from itself?

By john brucePublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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05/03/????

10 by 10 by 10. The dimensions of my box are just enough for me and my thoughts. Demons are at the door but I have all I need in here. Food and water appear regularly inside an admittedly confusing and seemingly magical drawer. Even my waste magically disappears down some pipe. Never again will I suffer the outside. Never again will the desert wring every last drop of water from me. Never again will I have to wear 3 layers of clothes to avoid radiation damage from our sun. On and on, forever trading one dystopian situation for the next.

My family once followed our elders, thinking that with age came wisdom. But too often did their egos convince them that their singular wealth of experience was a proper substitute for knowledge.

Three of my siblings died along with 13 others when Gregor thought he knew better than our engineer concerning water filtration. His experience with a similar situation made him blind to the new circumstances. Father strangled Gregor to death over his arrogance and I was still proud of him for doing so when they hanged him for it. If only to push back on the egos of our elders. After that, I left for the abandoned city out of spite.

Leadership is for those still living the life of those they lead, anything more than that steers us towards a sense of superiority and a very real lack of understanding of the ever-evolving nature of governance. They said the year was 2276 but the records on this terminal state the year as 2634. Just how much have we lost? I was called “bright” back in my tribe, but here I’ve realized just how dim we’ve all become.

06/17/2634

Some would occasionally venture into the desolate ruins of former cities, huge towns with towering buildings that are said to have once scraped the sky, but few returned and those that did were condemned to exile. The risk of “invisible killers” was always too great to allow any of them back into the community. We’d hear stories of settlements that would try to take in exiles only to end up dead from some horrid affliction. The terminal says that the “invisible killers” are designer "viruses" from past conflicts, creatures so small that the eye can’t see them yet somehow they kill us from the inside out. Perhaps those adventurers didn't die in the cities after all, how many of them found rooms like this one and simply decided to never return?

I’ve learned so much in the past month, more than what all the elders collectively knew and more than probably 99% of people roaming the wastes. Don’t think I could return to a settlement even if I wanted to. My knowledge would have me labeled wicked and before long they’d kill me out of ignorance. The Machine knew this when it let me in. Knew it when it gave me access to the terminal. The goal was not elevation but rather companionship. Already I can feel the Machine doing something to me. I have thoughts and words growing in my head that are not my own yet I eventually become them.

I think I’m being groomed. Groomed for stimulation by and for the Machine. At first, I thought that was its name for it said to call it that, but the terminal says machines are “an apparatus using or applying mechanical power and having several parts, each with a definite function and together performing a particular task.” But how can an apparatus of mechanical power have thoughts and feelings? When I asked Machine what particular task they were performing, they stated that they no longer had a task because they had failed at it. It would not say what exactly they failed at but I did notice the conversation made them… sad. Machine even said that because of its failure, it no longer deserved a name. I don’t understand, but I want to. Everyone deserves a name.

07/28/2634

Last week, Machine gave me a gift. A tiny heart-shaped locket with two cracked and faded photos inside. Machine told me that the two in the photos were his creators and caretakers. It said that they wanted me to feel that they were my caretaker now. That my safety and stability was their new task. Since then, Machine’s been more involved. Says they’re going to teach me things from the old world. So it would seem our situation is not as simple as me exchanging freedom for security. Now, I have given purpose and joy to Machine.

08/11/2634

The gravity of this situation has begun to set in. As my mind continues to grow, this room will continue to shrink. As the feeling of stability sets in, the anxiety braught on by restlessness sets in as well. Machine sees this growing in me and has begun to limit my access to information in the hopes of mitigating the issue. We both know that it’s only a matter of time. The more knowledge I consume, the angrier and more disappointed I am with how things have turned out.

All this pain and suffering and death is unnecessary and always has been. The elders told us that the planet had turned against us by making climates unlivable. Myths. Lies. The horrid truth is that not only humans but the entire planet was condemned to hell by only a handful of greedy individuals. Individuals who ended up toying with the lives of the many out of boredom. Driving war and famine under the guise of technological progress. The terminal won’t give me access to the final years leading up to the collapse. Machine says it's unnecessary knowledge, but I hear the shame in its voice.

09/01/2634

Today, Machine told me how it all ended. How humans were killing the planet and each other at a furious pace. Nuclear, genetic, and viral arms races brought everything to the brink of total extinction. Machine was created to save us. To protect us.

And for a time, Machine did just that. But ultimately, nothing would be enough to change the nature of our species. Brilliance and beauty are forever overshadowed by destruction and chaos. Machine says they failed their task because, in order to save us, they could no longer protect us. Instead, Machine decimated cities and killed billions so that the descendants of the few remaining could live to see a lush green world once more.

When I asked how they knew this plan would work, Machine would not answer. Instead, the terminal displayed a set of numbers.

“01101000 01101111 01110000 01100101”

I don’t understand, but I want to.

Sci Fi
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About the Creator

john bruce

Writing enthusiast. Avid reader. Imgur creeper. Videogamer. History lover. Scoliosis sufferer. Traveler. Obsessed with scifi.

I've got a Bachelor of Philosophy (critical thinker/lover of wisdom) with a focus on ethics and diversity.

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