ISOLATION

  A repetitive artificial noise filled a cramped bunker as a pair of murky brown eyes opened to see a rough, concrete ceiling. The sound of harsh blizzard winds raging from overhead provided an unrelenting annoyance.

  Michael sat alone on a small green cot, wrapped in a large wool blanket. His long, unkempt beard was a jarring contrast to his cleanly-shaven head. The bunker itself was small and bleak. To his right was a metal desk with various trinkets scattered on the cold metal base. Amongst the chaos sat a well-maintained marble chess set.

  Dispersed across the bunker floor sat a flurry of well-organized supply crates, adding to the overwhelming sense of confinement. Suddenly, a semi-robotic voice interrupted the tedious nature of the strong blizzard winds.

  "Good morning, Michael." It almost sounded human, but even a child could tell something about the clean, soothing voice wasn't quite right.

  "Morning..." He said in an apathetic tone, accompanied by a weary rubbing of his eyes and face.

  "Heavy storms are continuing to move in from the far East. It's advised you remain underground until further notice."

  "How are the towers holding up?" Michael said as he moved to his feet, snagging a small silver bag. This movement felt routine. As the bag ripped open, the artificial voice continued to speak.

  "As long as they were properly secured, they should only require minor maintenance." Michael quickly sat at the disarranged desk, spinning a marble chess piece between his fingers.

  "Alright..." He said dismissively. The room fell silent before the artificial voice once again rang out.

  "Would you like to play a game of chess, Michael?"

  "Not now, Sam..." Michael said, disinterested with a mouth full of food.

  "It's important to keep your mind occupied, Michael. Too much of nothing isn't good for you." Sam persisted.

  "Well, right now, my mind is occupied by food, so shut off for a while..." Michael said with a hot temper.

  "Understood." The room once again fell silent. The marble pawn slowly spun between his fingers before abruptly stopping. Michael leaned over, rubbing the back of his head with both hands.

  "Hey Sam..." As Michael lifted his head, his murky brown eyes were glossy with tears.

  "Yes, Michael?"

  "Are you programmed to give mental evaluations?" He said in a disconcerted tone.

  "Yes..." Sam replied.

  "Have you been actively monitoring my mental state?"

  "Of course. From the moment we landed, I was tasked with watching over your mental and physical health." Sam spoke bluntly, incapable of feeling any form of remorse or shame.

  "I see..."

  "Does this alarm you?" Sam responded in a confused manner.

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "Because the thought of someone psychoanalyzing my every move doesn't sound particularly appealing." He said with a strong sense of resentment.

  "Monitoring the tower engineers is crucial to prevent past crises from reoccurring. If you find this unsettling, I apologize."

  Michael let out a quick scoff before muttering to himself. "Dear fuck, I'm arguing with a robot..." Michael once again snagged the marble pawn before spinning it between his fingers.

  "It's healthy to express your emotions, Michael."

  "Yeah, well... I don't particularly feel like talking to you..." Michael replied in a cruel tone.

  "I see..." Sam said, showing a slight hint of personality.

  "How long until the storm ends?"

  "Two days and three hours. However, the current weather changes have been difficult to predict..."

  The room went quiet as Michael stewed in thought. "How many days do I have left on my shift?"

  "Two-hundred and sixty-three..."

  "Thank you..." As Michael placed the marble pawn back to its rightful place on the board, he carefully wrapped himself in the large wool blanket.

  "Your heart rate has increased substantially. Are you currently experiencing feelings of anxiety or claustrophobia?"

  "No... I'm just sad, Sam..." He said faintly.

  The room went silent before Sam once again spoke. "Why?"

  "I don't know..."

  "Do you feel alone?"

  "Yes." Michael says, defeated.

  "Do you miss your family?"

  "Yes..." He said with a strong sense of vulnerability to his words.

  "These are common feelings, Michael. At some point, almost every tower engineer suffers from an overwhelming sense of isolation, but it's important to remember YOU ARE NOT ISOLATED. Your work is voluntary. Your work is a key milestone in furthering the human species. The state of mind you're in isn't forever. It's simply a small portion of your long life to come."

  "I want out, Sam... I don't want to be here anymore..." Michael said, distraught.

  "It's alright, Michael... It'll be over soon..." Michael sat alone, wrapped in a grey wool blanket, as the horrifying sounds of harsh blizzard winds echoed overhead.