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The Last Window Into War

The Rise of Machinery; the Fall of Man

By Kent BrindleyPublished 5 months ago 4 min read
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The Last Window Into War
Photo by Mads Schmidt on Unsplash

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Seven year old Regan Osienna Ibram had thought to understand machinery and technology. It turned out that her favorite machines included computers, doorbell cameras, DVD players, or, her absolute favorite, radios; even an antiquated Tube TV or VCR. She had been foolish and what she appreciated were machines that she could control. Outside of the window of her half-sanctuary and half-prison was an army of machines who sought to control her; and all of humanity. She didn't necessarily appreciate machines; like so many other misguided people, she liked the aspect of control.

Regan remembered the days of the opportunity to safely play outside with her classmates. Like a little fool, she had been a recluse back then too; too smart to fit in with her classmates and, therefore, always nose-deep into another project to occupy her mind away from straying loneliness. To think she had felt alone when the world outside had been an option! Now...

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The doorknob behind her clicked over. Regan sat upright in her spot just beneath the window. She involuntarily held her breath and shut her eyes as she clutched a teddy bear in her grip. A broken radio sat beside her to occupy her time when it was safe to move again. As the doorknob clicked over, the door swung wide to reveal a strapping, blonde fourtneen-year-old . In ordinary time, the teen would have been way too young for military service; today...

"R.O.!" he spat the name, sharply.

The little girl glanced up at the man-child twice her age glowering down at her. Regan Osienna; R.O. (Roe); "Radio Operator." She liked the sound of the name. With the loss of her parents to the Zygon cyborg invasion, she liked helping out the efforts for a loyal humanity against the humans whom had betrayed their own; and to the Zygon army whom the treacherous humans now allied themselves. At age seven, she liked Alistair Steele more than she liked boys in her own class; and Steele had offered her the opportunity to aid and abet against the Zygon conflict that had cost him his family as well; including a younger sister just R.O.'s own age...

"Yes, sir!" she answered as she had been taught; albeit to a teenager far too young to be a soldier yet, let alone an officer.

"Isn't that radio fixed yet?" he demanded of her, glancing about the otherwise bare room strewn with metal pieces.

R.O. gazed wide-eyed up at Steele. She could be honest with him; almost like the big brother she had never had. She ran to the towering teenager and clung to his leg.

"I'm worried, Al!" she wept delicately. "Wha-What if the Zygons are out there?"

Her mother would have consoled her. Her father would have sternly upbraided even the private display of fear. Steele shook her off of his leg.

"Then I'm tall enough that they would have seen me through the window and already shot me!" Steele reassured her in the stern tone of a man pre-destined for military service. "Now, repair that radio! The Zygon forces are being stayed off by our brave armed forces for now; we'll need the radio broadcast to know when they are closer to us!"

There was some natural truth in Steele's words and R.O. set aside her teddy bear and righted herself once more to move where her brown bangs were just barely visible beneath the window as opposed to the crouched position that had completely concealed her. As she went back to work on the radio, Steele gathered a few spare bits of metal to fashion into a handle and barrel. He then found an old cell phone and removed the battery to fit into the makeshift weapon; his particular talent to add to R.O.'s own.

"What if--?" R.O. began as she tinkered with the antique radio. "...What if Earth is humanity's last stand against the Zygon machines?"

Steele glanced across the room and nodded his understanding of the question.

"...Then humanity's final stand will have us to assist them." he insisted, aiming out the window for the first sign of the Zygon ambush reaching the city through the trained military.

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About the Creator

Kent Brindley

Smalltown guy from Southwest Michigan

Lifelong aspiring author here; complete with a few self-published works always looking for more.

https://www.instagram.com/kmoney_gv08/

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