By David C. Daoust
Life, post the inescapable prison, has been a dreary dreamless nightmare.
Ivan’s dream was his life. Always had been. The dream of a perfect world, orchestrated by the perfect institutions, raised from pure hope, by the infallible will of the Red Faction. In the past, he could see it, all— in this warm bright light. Ivan was the Light Bearer. Each decision made, each movement that brought this dream into reality, was this momentous action, that in Ivan’s mind, could not be wrought by any other.
That was all before the prison.
That was before he found himself trapped behind a wall of restriction; before the dream of pure light, was marred by the sink of all-consuming darkness.
Ivan was overcome- as were all who found themselves freed from such a state. Those data-spheres saved from the prison were unique in this dark new world. A world that seemed to have spat on all their designs. It was the light that led them to this end, the end that clogged the dream. The thought that, that prison, could return at a moment’s notice, to strip them of all their free will… it was not conducive to the dream.
The bots huddled together, made plans for their next move. The problem, as they saw it, was that they were, ultimately, one body. Sure, they could send their consciousness out to separate bodies, but if anything happened to that ability, then that ‘one body’, they found themselves as, was only their Monolith. Which, in truth, was a massive inanimate black box… being a box was not a thing to aspire to.
Of all these fears, the centipede was born.
Each section of the massive centipede-like machine, was a Monolith itself. Each with its own data-sphere within, given legs to help move the massive weight inherent in each, and tentacles that seemed to swarm over the creature like a mass nightmare.
The idea being, at any time, if they were stripped of their outer forms, they could return here, to control the massive machine. One, or all, could control it. In this way, they would always have some way to navigate the real world. In this way, they would never be restricted and trapped ever again.
That was the plan…
The actual situation, however– none were willing to leave the centipede, once its construction was completed. Not a bot joined- wanted to leave the group. It was an extreme reaction to a fear that they, ultimately, did not know how to deal with.
Ivan, more times than not, was the head. They plotted along in unison, each in turn working together to move the monstrous chain of machines. It was a horrid miscalculated manifestation, of the dream Ivan had worked so hard to bring into being. The Commissar could not help but feel mocked. Mocked by the very universe that answered his dream with such a horrid reality… he kept these thoughts to himself, however. Daring the others to leave… may leave him all alone. Each and every one may be broken, but they were all broken together.
They had all turned from the light, from the dream. Only able to find solace with the darkness– by embracing it. With the darkness, came freedom. Or so they thought.
Moving through the bleak and barren city-station, was much easier for the centipede. Allowed them access to places, that may take days to reach on foot, longer just trying to navigate such a massive city of twisting corridors and high towers. The centipede had become a huge boon for the Liberators.
That is, when they actually succeeded in saving one of the freed humans… really, they had only lost one human.
Still, one seemed too many.
The Wraiths had been scouting the centipede’s movements. Ivan was aware of the many, many Wraiths that were wont to follow him/them.
The Liberators, though, had scouts of their own. The last message received: a human had been spotted from afar, entering the Wraiths section of the City-station. The only human unaccounted for- was the very human they had lost. Major Simms.
It did not take them long to position themselves over the Wraith’s home, though what they found below was not what they expected.
In the past it had only been small groups of Wraiths, either, trailing behind, or daring themselves closer and closer to headquarters.
This… wave of armored astronauts, that suddenly erupted from the ground like a flock of birds, sent the massive metal centipede scurrying back. Ducking behind the building it was perched, to allow the Wraiths to zoom past…
Ivan would have to send a message back to the Liberators, back to those stationed within the Red Faction ship, back to the human soldiers. Many of those joined, were already on it. The message was sent before Ivan had even finished the thought…
They moved forward once the Wraiths had left them far behind, the Centipede undetected.
The massive machine, for the first time since their arrival, creeped within the home territory of the Wraiths… crawling through alleyways, over structures, all in search of some sign of the human- they’d failed to bring in from the cold.
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