Of Gears and Humanity

| 03.2

[DAMIEN]

My watch's alarm beat relentlessly when I returned to the rover. I had listened to the sound as I walked, the beeps matching that of my heart. The image of a shadow on top of the wall plagued my mind. It should have scared me; parts of my senses recognized the potential danger. For as long as I could remember, I was taught to avoid the skirts of the Sectors. Was trained to avoid it.

But as I grew into a man, so did my sorrow. Yes, I was content with life because I had no other choice. If the choice was presented to me, I wondered if I would grab it, hold it, cherish it. That shadow, that instance, felt like a choice.

I tucked the bag and journal into the back of my pants as I stepped beside the rover. Arvon looked at me, a smile on his face. The shimmer in his eyes created a luminous glow inside the vehicle and I leaned against the hood for a closer look at him. The smile I gave him wasn't as wide as his. "Sorry I'm late," I said as I wiped the sweat from my brow. "I thought I could make it back in time."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Damien." Stretching over towards the passenger door, he pushed at the handle. I stepped back as the door swung open. "A five-minute delay is not something to apologize for," he said.

For a second, I froze. I stared at him as my mind raced. I thought of the negatives, the positives, of running back and hoping the figure would return. Never in my life had I felt so impulsive. But never in my life had I seen anything other than the Attributions who cared for me and my own mirror reflection.

Slipping back into his seat, Arvon placed his hands on the steering wheel. He kept his faze forward, looking out the front window. There was more patience in him than I was used to. And because of it, I clenched my jaw to still my heart as I slipped into my side of the rover.

As I closed the door and pressed my back against the seat, Arvon glanced at me. No smile. "Let us deliver the supplies and return home."

I pulled my bottom lip up between my teeth but hid the look with my hand. With a deep breath, I said, "Okay, father."

Silence filled the car as the engine hummed over my thoughts.

*

Each Sector looked the same. There were the same amount of buildings, each built to the same height, constructed with the same style. Not one corner of a Sector was unique from another; the balance of architecture was universal.

As a child, I couldn't tell the Sectors apart. As a human, I needed to be able to fix them, rebuild them, as that was what humans had always done; but I couldn't fix what I couldn't distinguish. I had to learn how to separate each Sector from the one I called home, to spot differences that weren't there.

Arvon made his deliveries to Sector Seven, as he planned. I remained in the car. I could have gone out with him, greeted his fellow Attributions with a nod and smile, but I liked to look at the new Attributions created to walk their metal streets.

While the cyborgs were the only part of the world with any differences, those built by Attributions weren't standard. At least, they weren't up to my standards. By the time I was fifteen, I learned to build Attributions, fully functioning and aware, to roam the streets and assist with work. The cyborgs I built were more like Arvon; he was the first fluid, human-like Attribution in his time. Those built by the others were... solid, stiff, possibly missing a few joints that allowed flexibility and mobility.

Those in Sector Seven could never pass for humans.

But the Attributions in Sector One could.

When we returned home, Arvon pulled our scavenger rover through the town's main gate. With the metal doors shutting behind us, I was able to look out the window and see the Attributions I was used to. Those built and constructed after Arvon; so close to humans, my childhood felt inclusive and loved.

Blind masks fell as I got older. There was nothing human about them but their synthetic skin. Everything underneath was wires, computers, and machines.

"Damien." Arvon slipped out of the car and waited for me at the side. The door hung up, his hand placed on top of it. As I stepped out of the car and faced him, he smiled. "We have had a successful delivery day."

Shutting the door, my hand slipped away from its metal exterior and moved behind my back. The bag and journal were still in place. I was worried it could have fallen in my seat.

"Do you not agree?"

I used to think every run was successful. Supplying our neighboring sectors with the tools required for their survival meant everything was fine. But I wasn't sure who Arvon was lying to anymore; Attributions had become dependent on materials we rarely found. I knew it was my job as a human to care for them, rebuild them, but without the materials, how could I?

They won't die with me when I get old, but how long would they have without me?

Arvon closed the door as he approached me. "Damien?"

Lifting my gaze, I watched as Arvon stood in front of me. The faux smile on his face had fallen. Expressionless. For a moment, I wondered if he'd blink. I knew I had to say something, anything, to remain attentive. If only my mind wouldn't wander as much as it did.

"Successful, father," I said with a firm nod. "Tomorrow we'll have another run, won't we?"

There was a hint of anxiousness in my voice. I couldn't hide it. It wasn't the delivery run I was concerned about, but more of the chance to roam the outskirts of the Sectors without needing to duck and dutch the every-watching eyes of the Lead Machines. The Attribution drones were fully aware at night, waiting to kill who approached the Sectors without permission.

I used to think they were powered on for no reason. After the shadow, I wondered if the drones protected us from them? And if that was the case, were the Attributions aware of what lurked on the opposite side of the Gate?

Arvon smiled as he placed his hand on my shoulder. "Damien—"

His tone of voice had a tinge of excitement. I had to lift my brows in curiosity as his smile widened, as did his eyes. Had my anxiousness come off as excitement? I was, yes, but not for deliveries.

"—I am happy you care for your people. Attributions praise you."

It took all of me to keep straight and eager. I needed Arvon to believe I wanted to do the delivery, to continue to want to be amongst the Attributions and their many machines. And so, I smiled, nodded, and bit the side of my tongue as I said, "Of course, father. Thank you."

*

[Thank you for reading <3!]