Molly - Part 5

Chapter 36

A-4 walked diagonally across the sand, metal clinked together as its body adjusted itself to the forward pull, red dots flashing in its vision. It spotted its kind then bowed his head and went down the other side of the dune. Sand twisting.

The crunch of sand. The howl of the earth. It adjusted its vision and swiped at the glass. Its armor creaked under the pressure of the wind. A dull sun.

Three four eleven twelve.

I don't see it.

Eleventy-eight. Four-hundred and fifty-six.

Wait, I think I have it.

One.

Here.

The voices swam in and out; it tapped the side of its head then moved on, watching the others approach the same point. All of it telegraphed, performed in such a way; it experienced something like pride in this assessment.

They came between the rubble. The bombs had dug in deep.

"Where is the hallmark?"

A-4 looked around. "The schedule says--"

A-13 waved its hand. Of the same form but made of darker metal.

"It isn't here. Something is wrong with the mainframe."

"That's impossible."

"What has happened to us was once deemed impossible. We must continue."

Down and through a bottomless pit and there standing just at the edge was a village. Small, black. A-4 wished that it wasn't here. Canvas flapping against itself and there amidst the dim gas spewing into the place were shadows but they did not move.

A-4 made its approach. It turned. The machines' visors flashing adhere. Rifles ready.

They came out: the shadows. Hunched over like old men but in reality they were not but children. Eyes dirty, their souls on their sleeves for they had nothing left to protect themselves with.

"Are you here to help us?"

A-4 raised its hand.

"You have secreted away the enemy. You have given them clothes and food and rest. You are the enemy; you have become what we must smother out. In doing so, we will usher in a good age, a new age. Of transformation."

"Now look who adheres!" laughed A-13, coming up and thrusting a metal finger in A-4's face. "You were never sent here to protect them--you were sent here to punish them."

A thousand bombs flying over Los Angeles. All arched towards the same destination. And in his heart he knew that he was to blame, and surely this was what would fell him.

"They have endangered themselves and their country."

"You're an alien!"

"They will not adhere."

"You have never adhered to anything in your life." A-13 laughed--shrill, robotic. "You are a program--a series of numbers. The only thing you ever wanted to do was to take your gun and shoot them. Why?"

A-13 stepped to the side. There they were, waiting for his verdict.

"Because that's what you were made to do."

He raised his rifle. Saw them for what they were: human. Flesh and blood. Souls and all the like. So hard to erase the empathy.

The rush of water.