By David C. Daoust
“Gordon?” the male voice said, a look of complete astonishment crossed his face.
“Ha!” Gordon said, then, innocently, launched into some bullshit, “Mitch! Buddy? What in the world are you doing here?”
The male voice belonged to the human form of Mitch, aka Mighty Mitch- who was in reality a bot currently loaded into the human looking bot-form that stood, blocking the only exit out the room. A room which held the very heart and soul of the bot himself; a room that Gordon should not even know exists.
“But…? Wha?” Was about all that could come out of the newly arrived bot. It was a culmination of way too many ideas flowing through his mind. Led to revelation after revelation, all lining up different past experiences in a whole new light and reordering his relationship with pretty much every soul he could have possibly come into contact with, from the moment he met Gordon- to this very moment of betrayal.
Of course, for the drunken Gordon Hitch, it was really just a couple strange noises coming out of the newcomer’s mouth-hole. Didn’t really phase him all that much more than the fact that the bot really didn’t react to his question at all. In point of fact, he didn’t expect Mitch to. It was a pretty quick reaction to quench any negative feelings that may form upon witnessing Gordon so close to a vital component of the bot’s very existence.
Fact was, Gordon Hitch was no newcomer to the razor-sharp blade of betrayal!
It was a blade that cut deep- the very moment he found his so-called ‘friend’ in a conference with the ‘Commandant of the Red Faction!’ Ooh it was revealed then and there. No joke about it. Did not take Gordon all that much whisky to piece it all together either!
“I thought we were friends!?” Mitch managed to respond, finally.
A response that voiced the very feelings Gordon had felt, when he realized Mitch was just furthering his ‘mission’. A mission to infiltrate and take over the Crucible, Halfhul! No, the entire Onion!
Gordon Hitch –could not believe– that the bot was acting wounded.
“Oh… really?” Gordon asked, his entire demeanor changing from that of an innocent bystander, to someone that just got accused of stealing his own property, “Were we friends when you abducted Bernie?! Replaced him with one of your robot buddies?!”
“The Commandant of the Red Faction, is NOT one of my robot buddies!” Mitch responded, matter of fact, “Our leader is simply trying to make the Solar System a better place- a few sacrifices need to be made…” he explained the last bit weakly, clearly repeating only what had been said to him.
“The what now?” Gordon’s face now emanated nothing but how ludicrous his ‘friend’ sounded, “Your leader… You have a leader? for what? What is the who and how?” he wished he could take that last bit back, but it was already out there, “I don’t know what you’re doing! I don’t know what you aim to gain… but this is my home, and I liked it the way it was.”
“You just don’t see,” Mitch, taking a step forward, a small smile appearing on his face as his eyes cast off at a distant vision. In truth, the very vision the Red Faction had set out to make a reality, “There is no need for all the trials and tribulations of the current iteration of the human existence! We can fix it! All of it! We just need to work together.”
“Current iteration?” Gordon asked, amazed, “Reality is not some ‘instance’ that can be remade until it matches some idea!” he said it, but by the look on the bots face he was not breaking through to him, “This is reality… not some code to be tweaked, to be controlled…” in his gut, he knew, it wasn’t getting through.
Gordon changed tactics, “How is replacing someone with a robot ‘working together’?”
“He’s in a better place, all is taken care of…” Mitch dismissed a little too smoothly.
“Oh my God, Mitch!” Gordon was repulsed and taken aback, all at the same time, -and- he literally took a step back from his friend before asking, “Did you kill Bernard?”
“No, no,” Mitch, finally restored eye contact with the man, and explained, “He has all he could ever want!”
“Oh really?” Gordon, relieved that Bernie was still out there, somewhere, pressed, “And if he wants his freedom?”
“Sacrifices had to be made,” Mitch said again, weakly.
“That’s wrong, Mitch,” Gordon said, flat out, “I can’t even begin to figure out how you can’t see that.”
Fortunately for Gordon, the bot had forgotten, really, the threat of the human being within his server room; so close to his Monolith.
Mitch was just too preoccupied with, maybe, winning his friend over to his side.
Maybe there was a moment when Gordon entertained the idea– but the callous sacrifice of one man’s freedom, just plunged it so far from anything he’d want to see in the real world, that he did not need more whisky to figure out the device before him– with a sudden flash of insight, Gordon shut it all down.
Flip of the switch, really.
The server reacted immediately, suddenly whirring and spinning-down at its very core. There was just half a second of surprise on the bot’s face- before he went still as a statue, tilted a bit too far forward, causing the now empty form to fall flat on its face.
The whir finally came to a stop as the Monolith spit out his friend’s data-sphere; raised up out of the forward terminal, as if on a pedestal.
With a sigh Gordon instinctively grabbed his flask, finding it empty, he sighed again as he collected his friend’s data-sphere. Shoved it safely within his pocket and headed out of the room, back around the outer circular hall, and down the ramp. He left the flying saucer behind completely- suddenly realizing he should check in with his cohorts –before– refilling his flask— and then thought better of it.
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