Release Me From Hell

Chapter 11: (System 11: Number 503/Iskil) Happened Too Fast

             Humans had a strange way with violence. They, despite knowing their enemy's weak points, would prolong the violence just to show their own how dominant they were to their own kind, and they often found fun in the ways they tortured each other. Bavarn and I often had that similar relationship, fighting until the bolts in us had no more chance to keep up with our limbs. I had figured he would come for me. He always did when we worked in the Factory before, so it didn't surprise me that he was here now. Except it wasn't petty humor he was here for. He now had malicious intent, and it was my job to make sure that my death was my own fight.
As Viania shouted, I had accepted to see my memories. I didn't stick around long enough for me to see them, and Rysh had pulled away as he climbed across the rusted bodies of old Systems to ambush the ones unaffected by the waves emanating from the memories I shared. I ran to Viania as fast as I could, seeing her dazed by the sight of him. Yes, Bavarn. For once in his pitiful existence, he managed to walk on the front lines with a horse made of flesh and bone beneath him. It was only this way that he was taller, but I stood in front of Viania with my eyes above the level of the horse's.
             "Glad we got a chance to meet again," Bavarn greeted. He was elegant with every movement. Most System 67s were. Systems were made with a true purpose, yet he was made after the death of humanity.
             I nodded. "Well, you're lucky. Almost died a few times since you've been gone."
            "I doubt that honestly." The overly large spear he held had clunked against the dirt next to him. "Figured you'd come here, but what's with the Firadae and System 30s? Are you starting an uprising?"
             "Quite. If there wasn't one already." I tugged on Viania's arm. A sign. Slowly, she started falling back into the background as the static rose in the air.
             "Hmph. Why would you come here? To release your memories? Is that it?"   
             Blue waves of electricity crawled across the dirt, shocking the living horse to its death as Bavarn jumped away from its fresh corpse. The electricity bounced back and forth between the metal and rust of all of the bodies and memories, and Bavarn had tried knocking it all away with the blunt end of his spear. He had always liked that thing. I never understood why. Maybe he thought it made him look bigger, but the reality was that he looked harmless. The sparks retracted, and I stared back.
             Viania disappeared, and Rysh and his kin had gone somewhere. Bavarn's protective men had spasmed themselves to death, as I expected most to react to having a sudden rush of emotions without warning.
           "Dammit," he cursed as he gargled oil from within and spit it out onto the floor. "You let her get away."
           "The Firadae?"
           "Aye." He smiled as he started to retract. "She's my own experiment, believe it or not. I have her on lock and key for now, and I came here to retrieve her."
          "You can't have her."
           He approached me, staring into my eyes with the power of a madman. "Releasing your memories to kill thousands is the least of my worries. I can make up for what you've cost. However, Firadae, Number 732-"
          "Viania."
           "Whatever, you rusted block of metal chunks!" He had pointed the spear at my throat. "If you dare harm her or tell her what I plan to do with her, she will die. I know you put lives of everyone else above your own, but you will find her suffering if not completely broken if you expose me."
            "Blackmail?" I laughed. "This is a new low, Bavarn. I won't tell, but what does she have that you don't wish to expose?"
For a moment, he had lost himself in that question. When his eyes glowed again, he had pulled the spear away. "She has something similar to you, Iskil. Whether it was a Factory mistake or not, there is human in that metal."
               I closed my eyes. "With all that is in me, you can't expect-"
             "Iskil, please." His arms reached my shoulders, and I opened my eyes to stare at him. "I know our relationship is foul, and we've lost the friendship we used to have, but this is it for the both of us. She might be the last thing we have to take up for us."
Both human and machine... He wasn't aware of the fact that's exactly what I was, but no one was except me.
            "Fine." I crossed my arms and stepped away. "I'll play by your rules."

             I caught up to Rysh and Viania and told them Bavarn had ran back to Latum with his tail between his legs. But we couldn't go back there. Rysh wasn't a resident of any of the big cities, seeing as his life was illegal, but he had mentioned Atum was home to the Resistance. As much as that dragged Viania's attention, she was constantly contacting her own friends in Latum. She kept telling them to get out as fast as they could, and they all said the same over and over. She was nervous enough to produce tears, which made her jump way too much. It was making Rysh uncomfortable as his welded chin lied exposed to the cold weather. Thank god it was too warm to snow. We would be frigid at that point.
            Viania reminded me of Lami in the respect that they both saw nature as something too fragile to touch. It didn't matter if your codex was all emotionless or if it was jam packed with human bits, they all seemed to find the idea that they world was an experience never discovered. Humans had made sure that we had experienced the world the way they did. With baby steps. I found no joy in that concept, but I knew I lost that joy for everything.
           Rysh had stopped at his wooden hovel. It lied just in the tree line, and he grabbed a metal panel from within no bigger than his palm. He gave me this look. I couldn't explain the chill of it, but I was aware that he needed to be fixed. All System 30s were destroyed, but it was people with power like mine that pressed them together again. If I had wanted to, I could have remade the Land of Scraps, but a part of me didn't. PTSD lied in machines as it lied in humans. I had felt bad for them in all honesty.
            I nodded to him, and we continued to a large city in the distance. In my head, I kept thinking of Viania. She didn't know about the things Bavarn knew.
            I sighed, realizing I was keeping a terrible secret.

            It took time to reach Atum, but when we did, I knew exactly how this place was run. Bavarn knew of the other machine settlements, planting factories there to make sure things had at least gone smoothly. He didn't expect that people would use it to recreate themselves from scratch. At the gate, they greeted us with lowly stares and whispers of tragedy that seemed to crawl under our skin. Well, their skin. I had been around the block long enough to be unaffected by tragedy. Or threats.
          The city streets were empty, covered in what looked like a layer of dust. Some people had walked the streets. A lot of them were System 30s and other abandoned machines left to rust with their outdated lives. They all scowled at Viania. Her body was sleek, despite the fact that the artificial sun had scorched its color, and she had been full of blue colors that shined. Considering that, she was outnumbered.
         "We should head to the Factory," Rysh mentioned. "It's safer there."
           "Safe?" Viania cried. "It's the Factory!"
         "Sh!" Rysh had suddenly shoved one of his right arms against her mouth. "Don't talk of the Factory that way. Despite the sanctity of the city of Atum, there's a rule here. Though the Factory is bad news elsewhere, our Factory lies in pure creation of what once was. We'll get there, and you'll see."
          The Factory lied across the horizon line. It was huge and black and pure vile even after what he said, but I decided not to mention that to Viania who had already been shivering from the thought of the Factory.
         "Hey," I had said to Rysh in a whisper. "Are the... um..."
         "No," he had replied without my finish. "We no longer do anything like that. The fumes coming from the Factory are purely white, not black like they used to be when..." He had choked upon his own words as he, too, thought about the black fumes that came from the burning of metal and wires. Viania only stared at our exchange, clearly not seeing the underline.
         "What was prison like?" he asked me.
        "Like prison. Everyday people would see me. Everyday I would be tortured to the same tune. System 11, Number 503? I hate the numbers now, you know."
        "I don't blame you. It's just numbers, a way for them to date us."
         It was, but mine were once special. They were the very thing that defined the difference between my humanity and my metal that vibrated inside.