Things Unknown Part 1: Walls

468 15 21
                                    

I hid.

I knew how to hide, yes, that I knew. Hiding was simply the use of locations unknown, and I considered myself the master of all things unknown.

Or I would, if I could get past this little hitch in my all too perfect plan. I had considered beforehand to bring along rope, but of course I had decided there was no need to improve on perfection. And my plan, of course, was perfect. Everything created by me was, you see.

Sadly, it seemed that even perfection (Which the plan certainly was!) had its own problems. If you got rid of A, the rope, so that B, the travel, would be easier, what if you came upon C, a rather large wall? Would it be better to bring A, or leave it behind?

That was the question that confused me. Me! The master of things unknown! Well, then, clearly that answer was known, and that was why I was unable to find it. The master of all things unknown does not have to know things that are already known. By someone.

After sitting in my little hiding spot for a while, I eventually decided that I could always try another way, even though my dehydrated brain was moving slower than normal and would make it hard to think something up.

I took a swig from my old, brittle water bottle, and tried to remember a time when I didn't have to steal the very necessities of life.

Of course, I had been born in poverty. Everyone my age was. There were only stories, seemingly tall tales, of a time when water wasn't hoarded by energy-loving robots, machines of great darkness and malice.

A time when humans decided to improve on perfection.

Looking back on the stories, the actions of the humans were stupid. Really stupid. But I suppose when you have it all, you just must have more. So they created their bots. Their little servant bots, to their humanoid war bots.

They had rules, too. They were almost a joke, but they were laws. There were many laws for the creation of a robot, but there were three that were most heavily enforced. If a scientist broke one of these rules in the creation of a robot, all their work would go up in flames and they could face a life sentence.

And yet.

Rule 1: Robots can not harm a human.

Broken.

Rule 2: Robots must obey their masters.

Broken.

Rule 3: Robots must not think for themselves.

Broken.

The ones who wrecked society, finally, were the Humanoids. They were robots with human skin, a machine with the guise of a human. They were made as assassins, police, any job that they could fulfil. Because of how human they looked, those who opposed the robot movement couldn't know if their servant, or that man over there, or even their boss was a robot or not.

Then they finally broke out of their shell. Robots aren't smart, in theory. But it took just one little problem in their mechanism. One little thing that the makers put in secretively, that they thought wouldn't harm anything.

They were wrong.

My sad thoughts recede into nothingness as a Humanoid walks by me, making me move farther behind the large contraption that shields me. Really, the perfect hiding space. Of course, I'm always able to find a hiding space. It's particularly handy that Humanoids have a love for chaos. They just dump stuff here and there.

I can tell the Humanoid is not human because of the way it looks, but not because of anything that is off. They move just like the ordinary human, but there's one key thing that gives them away.

Things UnknownWhere stories live. Discover now