Automation Era: The Battlefield

[7] conflict, impulse, regret

[7] conflict, impulse, regret

"Why are we screwed?" Scarlett asked. "Because you don't like that I'm your leader now?"

Angelo stopped pacing. He gave Scarlett a full-on disgusted look, then shook his head. "No, dumbass. You're not the problem. You fit a Marksman more than an Assassin, now that I think about it—bossy, aggressive, and overall an arrogant piece of shit." Stiffly, he gestured at me. "This. This is the problem. Assassins have to be sneaky. Jake's too...obvious. He doesn't act like an Assassin. You know what Assassins have to do in the battle? They have to sneak between the enemies and take down their Marksman! Can you see Jake doing that? No!"

I'd feel offended, only I agreed. I'd never be able to do that. I'd rather work across distance. I was good with long-range stuff. Measuring, calculating, aiming. But sneaking between a bunch of androids for melee combat? Yeah, no.

"He can learn," Scarlett said. "We have time to practice before the battle."

"It's not about practice." Sighing, Angelo sat down. "He just doesn't have it in him. I just think he's better off a Marksman."

"Oh, so now this about you wanting Jake to be the Marksman? Listen, anyone can learn to hit that stupid bullseye. I can and I will learn to do that stuff. And Jake will learn to be an Assassin. Besides, Jake would make an even worse leader. He's quiet and shy and he has absolutely no communication skills."

"Guys," Yaseen cut in. "This—"

"Yeah, yeah," Scarlett said. "We should 'calm down' and stop 'wasting energy.' Is that the only thing Tanks say?"

"Watch how you talk to him, asshole!"
Angelo stood and jabbed a finger at Scarlett. "He welcomed you into his house and this is how you respect him? Which dumpster did you crawl out of?"

"I don't know which dumpster I crawled out of. You know why? Because of you!" Scarlett pushed Angelo's hand away and shoved him in the chest. "You and your entire robot community. We don't know exactly how we were bred. We don't know whose genes we have. We don't know what our real parents would've been like. We just exist. Alone. Just Jake and I. And I used to think our life was terrible. I thought it couldn't get worse. Then this stupid Trial happened. Then you happened. Everything has to go your way, huh? You think I'm the Assassin, so I have to be the Assassin. You think Jake's the Marksman, so Jake has to be the Marksman. But guess what? We don't have to obey you. You're just another lifeless piece of metal. This synthetic skin doesn't make you human. It doesn't make you alive."

This escalated fast. I fidgeted. I understood every word Scarlett said, I knew what she meant and I knew the pain. But I just didn't think Angelo was responsible.

"Thing. You think I'm a thing?" Angelo had just been called lifeless, and yet his eyes had never looked so real: they blazed with anger. It contradicted Scarlett's point. "You can't respect us because we're not human? That's all you care about? I'm telling you that Jake being the Assassin might end up killing him because he's not fit for the task, and this, this is what you care about? That we're not alive for you?"

Their voices were getting louder. Across the room, I caught Yaseen's eye, and I saw the intention to diffuse the situation. "Angelo," Yaseen said. "Calm down, boy. Calm down." With one hand, he caught Angelo's arm and gently pulled him away. "You two keep fighting because you're both very similar: so impatient, so aggressive." When he set his eyes on Scarlett, his expression was still gentle. Still forgiving. No hint of anger. "Scarlett, take a minute to breathe."