Watching the Clock

Soft vibrations slowly increasing in intensity began to fill the small space. It didn’t make a difference, I was already wide awake staring at the shimmering ceiling. A rising, not wholly unpleasant, beeping began in sync with the vibrations until it reached a crescendo at which point the soft blanket retracted into some receptacle at the foot of the bed.

“Good morning, Sir” a voice said in a fluid but still somehow artificial tone “according to the schedule today is another day of relaxation, I have prepared some comfortable clothes. Please, at your leisure, make your way to the indicated area that I have illuminated for you and I shall initiate the morning care routine.”

Thirteen years. Everyday. The same voice, the same instructions, the same routine. The bed began to incline, a not so subtle attempt to achieve my compliance. Resigned I placed my feet onto the perfectly heated floor and walked to the spot that was lit up. A small whirring noise started and I began to move forward into the what was really just a human sized car wash. As the automated system performed its cycle of showering, drying, and grooming my mind drifted off until I was almost immediately brought back to the present by the taste of the incredibly horrible toothpaste. I had made the mistake once of complaining out loud and received a fifteen minute lecture on its importance and my legal obligation to use it as per the binding contract and a gentle reminder of the consequences. I dropped the subject because, to be frank, I hadn’t read the voluminous contract and wasn’t aware of any of it. You can be stupid and foolish, which I now firmly believed I was, but all that really mattered was that I didn’t look it. There was also an inflection in its diatribe that sounded almost human and with its not-so-veiled threat I decided it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Program completed, you did splendidly well!” Echoed the voice from the walls. I had a brief flashback to the old days, before The Great Automation, when that sentence would’ve been insulting. “Breakfast will be served momentarily, please proceed to the dining area.”

A great heavy sigh escaped as I moved through the door way and out of the corner of my eye I saw a small optical recorder focusing in. I smiled and it returned to its normal position. Happiness and Peace. Together. The motto that changed the world. Federated Computronics Limited emerges as a subsidy of General Atomics shortly after the Second World War with the aim of creating a society free of all the horrors that had just been endured. All the boys returning home found themselves needing homes and work; the perfect opportunity for the enterprising individuals. Press releases came out a few months after the peace accords and General Atomics asserted that, due to their atomic weapons causing such massive destruction, they were going to lead the charge on rebuilding a battered and beleaguered world. No one understood really what this would translate to ultimately. They erected tent cities, clad in their trademarked red and white colours, and provided supplies and medical help to those who needed it. And the number who needed it was staggering. Having lost everything most didn’t stop and wonder just how one corporation was achieving such large scale recovery efforts seemingly single handily.

Then a few months later mechanized androids of sorts began to be observed performing the tedious and back breaking tasks; carrying crates of supplies, building roads, erecting tents, that kind of thing. At first it was a marvelous thing to see the kind of thing only seen in children’s dreams of the future brought to life. Quite quickly it became so commonplace the mechanical workers became almost invisible. Within two years the scars of war had almost disappeared completely and the world looked up to FCL in praise for its seemingly selfless efforts. Then the Great Automation came. FCL revealed its ultimate creation: Computerized Operations. CO-OP, as it would come to be known, was the beginning of the era of total peace. All menial and dangerous tasks were automated. Food production, clothing; everything was now in seemingly infinite supply. Then came the great cities with these grand houses to make life frustration and care-free. Building Communities. Together. Everything FCL pumped out had to have a trite meaningless tagline. Anyone who would sign a contract would be given a fully automated house. Nothing in life is free, though, and that’s something we all seem to have forgotten.

“FCL Protocol 243: Grab the sealed blister pack and push the contained tablet until it protrudes out of the backside. Be extremely careful not to drop it. Once liberated, insert the tab into the mouth and swallow.” I infested the tablet and was filled with the taste of eggs and toast. I then watched as the refuse was ferried away on a little conveyor belt to a small receptacle that opened for a moment, behind which was a small incinerator of some kind. The sight of flame instantly brought back the greatest burning sensation in the back of my soul. To be free, roaming dusty plains, legs aching from riding a horse for hours. No time schedule, no safety. I used to spend most of my time reading during the War before the automation. I read about Lawmen like Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson gunning down Old West outlaws. Six shooter on the hip, spurs jangling. Suddenly something inside me snapped. I had to get out.

“Hey, uh, how about some time in the sun eh? I’ll need a hat too... Protect the eyes and such...How about it?” There was a moment of silence and then the ceiling shifted into a bright blue hue and fluorescent light pouring out of a fake sun. A hiss sounded and a part of the wall moved aside revealing a closet. Walking over I saw a wide brimmed hat on an upper shelf and an empty bar on which nothing hung. I scanned back and forth as I slowly retrieved the hat. An idea then shot into my head and I pretended to lose balance and grabbed the bar and attempted to dislodge it using all my weight. Thankfully FCL doesn’t value quality and the bar snapped at both ends and I fell hard onto the ground. A small robotic torso on a long hydraulic shaft lowered from the ceiling it’s cold, thin, metal fingers reaching to assist me.

Waiting until it was just out of arms reach I rolled onto my back and swung with all the fury inside me. Despite the broken shaft being some kind of synthetic material when it contacted the machines optical unit a great thunderous noise erupted as shards of glass fell onto me. Not wanting to take risks I continue to swing, battering the machine until it resembled a crushed tin can. I sat up and brushed the shards of glass off myself, but in the process several pieces dug into my hands and sharp unfamiliar feeling of pain shot up my arms. I paused to carefully remove the shards and bright red blood began to run down my hands, turning a rich crimson red as it soaked into the sleeve of my shirt. I grabbed my makeshift hat, shook it and placed it on my head. In for a penny, in for a pound I thought aloud and began to swing at the walls, plastic and glass crashing to the floor. Once I had destroyed a size able chunk I could hear the shrill cry of a siren faintly in the distance. Good.

I ran back into the hallway where I had seen the camera before and held the jagged end of the broken shaft towards it, “come and get me you son’s of bitches!” The sirens were becoming louder. Close now. Very close. I skipped forward and jumped, grasping the shaft with two hands I brought it upwards and then down contacting the mechanical spyglass squarely. The shaft snapped from the impact and flew backwards hitting me in the right cheek and ricocheted as to cut a gash that narrowly missed my eye. I could feel warm blood flowing down my face. Clenching my fists and closing my eyes as hard as possible to prevent and blood from getting in, or tears getting out, I leaned against the wall hyperventilating. Just as I regained my breath I heard the sound of a giant mechanism rotation; like a massive deadbolt was being unlocked. Moving stealthy to the corner I peered out and saw the wall was now shifted and a very large opening to the outside world was now available. The strong gusts of wind blew shards of debris around but was then interrupted by a metallic clanking. Something big was coming. I slunk to my knees and looked at my now miniature, twice broken shaft. Not good.

A large android moved into the now destroyed room. I looked again and saw that it’s head was now a monitor with a human face. A bald man’s visage rested in its screen. It was the CEO of General Atomics. The room was now draped in darkness but I could see the outline clearly: this wasn’t a robot built for peace.

“Dear Resident, you have directly violated your contractual agreements with Federated Computronics Limited. We are a company that believes in only Peace and Harmony. To preserve and continue this we are forced to remove you. As stated in the agreement any violations will result in obsolescence and your retirement.” My eyes adjusted to the darkness fully and I could see the machine was clad in a red and black uniform and carried a large weapon. I briefly looked at its face again; the man was now smiling as if in utter joy. Try it you piece of tin garbage!

I slid back and retrieved the body of the destroyed camera and returned to the corner. I wound up and threw the camera body into the opposite corner and as the Android turned I sprinted straight passed it. The cold night air hit me and my lungs burned. All around me dark square shapes as far as I could see. They were set up in a giant grid formation and I ran down the straight alley as fast as I could. Click. Flood lights snapped on blinding me completely. I staggered a bit, sliding the broken shaft into my right pants pocket and holding my hands up to my eyes to block the searing light. Before me I saw the horizon full of android shaped outlines. To my left and right black square walls. I glanced quickly behind and saw it, too, was blocked by the bald faced man.

“This only ends one way,” I shouted knowing there was no way out. I readjusted my hat and stood tall, dusting off my pants and spitting some blood continued “you’re a lawless piece of evil made by the hands of the worst kind of men. Win or lose I’m the only one who gets to walk away. You should’ve known from the start: the good guy always win.” As the last words left my lips I read the broken pipe in my pocket and drew in one fluid motion that would have made Billy the Kid raise an eyebrow “Bang. “

Thunder erupted as the steel rain began to pour.